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1/ 


I 


i 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL 
KECOL  LECTIONS. 


IN  PRESS : 

THE  LIFE  OF  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 

BY  MR.  LESLIE. 


WITH  NOTICES  OF  HOGARTH,  WILSON,  GAINSBOROUGH,  AND 
OTHER  ARTISTS,  HIS  CONTEMPORARIES. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


w 


http://archive.org/details/autobiographicalOOIesl_0 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL 


RECOLLECTIONS. 


BY  THE  LATE 

CHARLES  ROBERT  LESLIE,  R.A. 


EDITED, 

WITH  A  PREFATORY  ESSAY  ON  LESLIE  AS  AN  ARTIST, 
AND  SELECTIONS  FROM  HIS  CORRESPONDENCE, 


By  TOM  TAYLOR,  Esq., 

EDITOR  OF  THE  "  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  HAYDON." 


WITH  PORTRAIT. 


BOSTON: 
TICKNOR    AND  FIELDS. 

M  DCCC  LX. 


Albemarle  Street,  London,  April  30,  1860. 

Messrs.  Ticknor  and  Fields  : 

Dear  Sirs,  —  Acting  on  behalf  of  the  representatives  of  the  late 
Mr.  Leslie,  R.  A.,  I  have  great  pleasure  in  placing  in  your  hands 
the  early  sheets  of  that  eminent  Artist's  "  Memoirs  and  Correspon- 
dence "  for  exclusive  publication  in  the  United  States ;  believing  that 
you,  as  personal  friends  of  the  late  Mr.  Leslie,  will  be  most  dis- 
posed to  promote  the  interests  of  the  work  and  of  the  family. 

I  remain,  Dear  Sirs, 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

John  Murray. 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 
STEREOTYPED   AND   PRINTED  BY 
H.  0.  HOUGHTON  AND  COMPANY. 


**■  GtTTV  CENTER 
LIBRARY 


EDITOK'S  PEEFACE. 


It  is  owing  to  the  innate  modesty  of  the  late  Mr. 
Leslie's  character,  that  in  his  Autobiographical  Recol- 
lections the  part  occupied  by  himself  and  his  pictures 
is  small  in  comparison  with  that  devoted  to  his  con- 
temporaries and  friends.  So  great  is  my  respect  for 
Mr.  Leslie,  that  I  have  hesitated  long  before  giving 
to  the  world  any  more  about  him  than  he  had  thought 
fit  himself  to  prepare  for  publication. 

But  when  I  took  into  account  his  claims  to  considera- 
tion as  a  painter,  I  felt  strongly  that  readers  must  wish 
to  know  more  about  the  man  than  he  had  himself  told 
them  —  more  about  tjje  circumstances  and  influences 
under  which  his  pictures  were  produced;  the  present 
state  and  locality  of  these  pictures;  their  subjects;  the 
way  in  which  those  subjects  are  treated,  and  the  general 
characteristics  of  his  style. 

I  have  therefore  attempted,  in  an  Introductory  Essay, 
to  classify  and  describe  such  of  Leslie's  more  important 
works  as  I  have  been  able  to  examine  personally,  and 
to  give  a  general  appreciation  of  his  artistic  qualities, 
and  his  position  in  the  English  school. 

I  have,  further,  selected  from  the  correfpondence  placed 


VI 


PEEFACE. 


at  my  disposal,  the  parts  bearing  on  the  painter's  works, 
and  on  his  life  as  connected  with  his  works.  Without 
such  an  addition  to  the  Autobiographical  Recollections 
which  Leslie  had  himself  made  ready  for  posthumous 
publication,  this  volume  would  not — as  it  seems  to  me 

—  have  contained  the  information  required  to  give  it  its 
proper  place  among  the  artistic  biographies  of  the  time 

—  such  lives  as  have  been  published,  or  are  preparing, 
of  Wilkie  and  Constable,  Etty,  Haydon,  and  Turner. 

In  using  the  matter  entrusted  to  me,  I  have  been 
guided  by  the  strongest  regard  and  respect  for  the 
painter,  and  for  the  family  that  is  left  to  lament  the 
irreparable  loss  of  such  a  husband,  brother,  and  father. 
I  have  endeavoured  to  bear  in  mind,  always,  the  mod- 
esty, tolerance,  and  good  taste  which  ruled  throughout 
Leslie's  life  and  labours;  and  to  respect  the  time  and 
patience  of  my  readers.  Affectionate  admiration  for 
my  subject  may,  however,  have  in  some  cases  misled 
me  as  to  what  was  worth  printing  about  him  —  hav- 
ing regard,  at  least,  to  the  wider  public.  I  have  little 
fear  that  the  many  friends  of  ^Leslie,  and  the  large 
circle  of  them  who,  like  myself,  have  loved  and  bene- 
fited by  his  works,  will  think  I  have  extracted  too 
much  from  his  letters,  or  that  I  have  rated  the  man 
or  his  pictures  too  highly. 

His  son,  Mr.  George  Leslie,  writes  thus  to  me,  of, 
the  manner  in  which  the  Autobiographical  Recollec- 
tions were  composed:  — 

"  The  manner  in  which  my  father's  autobiography  was  writ- 
ten was  this.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  writing  down  accounts 
of  anything  of  importance  that  occurred  to  him  all  his  life,  and 


PREFACE. 


vii 


it  is  from  these  notes  and  from  letters  which  he  collected,  that 
the  autobiography  you  have  was  composed. 

"  We  have  reason  to  believe  that  he  commenced  it  about 
ten  years  ago,  writing  in  it  from  time  to  time.  The  reason  it 
ends  abruptly  was  not  on  account  of-  failing  health,  but  be- 
cause all  the  time  he  could  spare  from  his  painting  was,  dur- 
ing the  last  year  of  his  life,  occupied  by  him  in  writing  the 
life  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  at  which  he  worked  hard  even  a 
month  before  his  death." 

TOM  TAYLOR. 


AUTHOE'S  PREFACE. 


My  object  has  been  to  preserve  in  these  pages 
some  recollections  of  those  chiefly  whom  I  could 
praise;  and  of  them,  not  the  faults  and  foibles  that 
are  more  or  less  common  to  all  men,  but  the  merits 
that  are  rare,  and  on  which  alone  their  claims  to  dis- 
tinction rest.  I  mention  this  that  I  may  not  be 
charged  with  dealing  too  much  in  panegyric. 

C.  R.  LESLIE. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

Introduction:  On  Leslie's  Pictures  xiii 

General  Characteristics  of  Leslie  as  an  Artist       .       .  xlvii 

CHAPTER  I. 

Voyage  to  America  —  Engagement  at  sea — French  ship  vanquished  — 
Youthful  bravery  —  The  Newfoundland  dog  —  Residence  at  Lisbon  — 
Departure  from  Lisbon  —  Arrival  at  Philadelphia        ....  1 

CHAPTER  II. 

Desire  to  be  a  Painter — George  Frederick  Cooke  —  Departure  for  England 

—  New  Acquaintances  —  Visits  to  the  Theatre  —  Allston  and  Cole- 
ridge—  Visit  to  Clifton  —  Obtain  the  Academy  medals — Fuseli  and 
Westmacott — Visit  to  Paris — Coleridge's  lectures  on  Shakespeare  — 
Fragments  of  Coleridge  —  Coleridge  at  Highgate  —  Charles  and  Mary 
Lamb  15 

CHAPTER  III. 

President  West — Washington  Irving  and  Walter  Scott  —  Visit  to  Oxford 

—  Elected  associate  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  —  Flaxman  and  Lawrence 

—  Flaxman  and  Canova  —  Chantrey  —  Garrick  and  Parliament  .       .  37 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Wilkie  —  Visit  to  Scotland  —  Visit  to  Abbotsford  —  Anecdote  of  Mrs. 
Coutts  —  Walter  Scott  at  Home  —  Visit  to  Edinburgh  .      .      .  .54 


CHAPTER  V. 

Lord  Holland  —  Lord  Egremont  —  Anecdote  of  Lord  Egremont  —  Petworth 
—  The  Rev.  Sidney  Smith  —  Anecdotes  of  Sidney  Smith — Constable, 
the  Painter —  Walter  Scott  in  London  —  Alfred  and  John  Chalon       .  66 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Appointment  in  America  —  Letter  of  Lord  Egremont  —  Ai-rival  in  New 
York— Sojourn  at  West  Point  — Return  to  England  — Samuel  Rogers 
and  Stothard — Anecdotes  of  Stothard  —  Old  Lady  Cork  —  Newton, 
the  Painter   .      .  .80 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Visit  to  Cashiobury  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  —  Theatrical  Stars  —  Jack 
Bannister  —  The  Sistine  Chapel  —  Chantrey  —  Holland  House  —  Sir 


George  Beaumont  —  Constable,  the  Painter  95 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Lord  Egremont  —  The  Coronation  —  The  Duke  of  Wellington  —  Lord  Mel- 
bourne—  The  Princess  Royal — Wilkie's  Asiatic  Sketches  —  Raim- 
bach,  the  Engraver  —  Newton  and  Wilkie  —  Wilkie's  Letters      .       .  108 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The.  Wellington  Statue  —  Westmacott,  the  Sculptor  —  A  Sea-Captain's 
Stories  —  Etty,  the  Academician  —  Sir  Robert  Peel — Sir  Martin  Shee 

—  Visit  to  Paris  —  President  Eastlake  —  The  Great  Exhibition   .      .  121 

CHAPTER  X. 

Turner —  Turner  and  Ruskin —  Turner's  Pictures  —  Sir  Charles  Eastlake 

—  Landseer  —  The  Engravers  of  England  —  Wilkie's  Prints  —  Engrav- 
ing Auctioneers  133 


CHAPTER  XI. 

John  Howard  Payne  —  Haydon,  the  Painter  —  Haydon's  Journal  —  Hay- 
don's  character  —  The  Chalons  and  Cattermole  —  British,  French, 
and  German  Schools  —  Dessin's  Hotel  —  Peter  Powell  —  Samuel  Rogers 


—  Rogers's  "  Table  Talk  "  145 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Prince  Saunders  —  Wilson's  Ornithology  —  Peter  Pindar  —  Matthews  "  At 
Home  "  —  Kenney,  the  Dramatist  —  Rogers  and  Maltby     .      .  .162 

Extracts  from  Leslie's  Correspondence  171 

APPENDIX. 

List  op  the  Principal   Pictures   Painted,  and  of  all  the 
Pictures  Exhibited  by  C.  K.  Leslie,  K.  A  357 


INTRODUCTION. 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 

It  has  been  my  lot  to  be  entrusted  with  the  ar- 
rangement for  the  press  of  two  artistic  autobiogra- 
phies—  that  of  Haydon,  and  that  of  Leslie.  It  is 
difficult  to  imagine  a  completer  contrast  than  is 
formed  by  the  characters,  lives,  and  works  of  these 
two  painters.  Haydon  presents  to  us  a  nature  all 
self-confidence,  passion,  and  combativeness.  He  was 
exclusive  in  his  theories ;  reckless  in  his  defiance  of 
difficulties;  unscrupulous  in  the  means  he  took  to  re- 
lieve them  ;  untiring  in  his  appeals  to  patrons,  and  public 
men,  and  the  public.  Regarding  himself  as  a  martyr  to 
High- Art,  he  claimed  to  the  full  all  the  immunities 
and  indulgences  that  the  most  lenient  and  sympathetic 
judgment  could  attach  to  that  position.  Alternately 
elated  with  the  most  buoyant  hope  and  depressed  by 
the  deepest  despair  —  fighting,  struggling,  appealing, 
asserting  himself  his  whole  life  through,  he  closed  a 
stormy  and  sorrowful  career  by  suicide.  But  through 
all  this  tempestuous  life,  he  loved  his  art  passionately, 
and  was  truly  and  deeply  attached  to  his  wife  and 
his  children.  His  pictures  seem  to  me  to  reflect  at 
once  his  lofty  aims  and  his  practical  short-comings. 
Their  unquestionable  power  and  vigour  are  marred 
by  ever  recurring  evidences  of  haste,  slovenliness, 
coarseness,  and  lack  of  taste. 


xiv 


INTRODUCTION. 


In  Leslie,  on  the  other  hand,  we  see  the  man  of 
cautious,  trustful,  respectful  nature  from  the  first. 
Slow  in  the  formation  of  his  judgment,  disposed  to 
defer  to  others  in  his  art  and  out  of  it,  but  strong  in 
principle,  and  apt  to  hold  stubbornly  to  convictions 
once  grasped;  not  given  to  court  notoriety  or  public- 
ity, and  rather  shrinking  from  than  provoking  con- 
flict; asking  only  leave  to  pursue  the  even  tenor  of 
his  way  in  the  practice  of  the  unambitious  art  he 
loved,  among  the  quiet  friends  he  valued;  equable, 
affectionate,  self-respecting  to  the  point  of  reserve  and 
reticence ;  valuing  good  taste  and  moderation  as 
much  in  art  as  in  manners;  averse  to  exclusive  theo- 
ries or  loud-sounding  self-assertion  in  all  forms ;  clos- 
ing a  happy,  peaceful,  successful,  and  honored  life,  by 
the  calm  and  courageous  death  of  a  Christian,  and 
leaving  behind  him  pictures  stamped  in  every  line 
with  good  taste,  chastened  humour,  and  graceful  sen- 
timent—  pictures  which  it  makes  us  happier,  gentler, 
and  better  to  look  upon  —  pictures  which  help  us  to 
love  good  books  more,  and  to  regard  our  fellow-crea- 
tures with  kindlier  eyes. 

The  lessons  of  two  such  lives  ought  not  to  be  writ- 
ten in  vain.  For  power,  passion,  and  variety ;  for  cu- 
rious revelation  of  character,  eloquent  criticism,  and 
vivid  sketching  of  men  and  manners,  the  little  Leslie 
has  left  written  is  altogether  unworthy  of  comparison 
with  those  bulky  records  of  himself  from  which  I  se- 
lected the  materials  for  the  autobiography  of  Haydon. 
But  scanty,  and  comparatively  colourless,  as  Leslie's 
remains  may  be,  they  are  of  value  in  throwing  light 
on  the  character,  as  well  as  on  the  works,  of  the 
painter  —  that  part  of  him  which  alone  has  an  inter- 
est for  us. 

Before  entering  on  the  subject  of  Leslie's  pictures 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES.  xv 

in  detail,  I  think  it  essential  to  fair  appreciation  of  the 
painter  and  the  man,  to  give  the  reader  such  knowl- 
edge as  I  can  of  his  method  of  working,  and  of  his 
daily  habits. 

"  His  painting-room,"  says  his  son  George,  "  differed  from 
those  of  most  artists  in  one  point.  He  never  hung  up  any  of 
his  own  works  or  studies  on  the  walls,  but  had  a  great  many  fine 
examples  of  other  painters  —  chiefly  copies  by  himself  from  the 
old  masters.  He  considered  that  an  artist  who  fed  his  eye  with 
his  own  works  was  sure  to  get  into  a  mannered  style  of  painting. 
He  painted  in  the  simplest  manner,  always  trying  to  get  his  work 
like  in  tone  and  colour  to  the  object  he  painted  from  as  soon  as 
possible.  He  had  a  particular  objection  to  the  practice  of  pre- 
paring his  work  in  one  colour,  to  be  afterwards  altered  to  another 
by  glazing.  He  used  to  say,  that  unless  you  possessed  a  most 
extraordinary  knowledge  of  the  chemical,  as  well  as  modifying, 
qualities  of  colours,  it  was  always  very  uncertain  whether  you 
would  obtain  by  that  means  the  exact  tint  you  wanted. 

"  He  was  very  quick  in  working,  especially  in  painting  heads  ; 
I  don't  think  he  ever  kept  a  model  more  than  two  hours  at  a 
time,  and  generally  finished  a  head  the  second  day,  though  he 
frequently  rubbed  his  work  out,  if  it  was  not  satisfactory  to  him, 
and  painted  it  in  afresh.  I  have  often  sat  to  him,  and  he  had 
always  finished  before  I  was  tired. 

"  He  very  seldom  praised  his  own  work  ;  but  I  have  often  seen 
him  laughing  at  some  expression  that  pleased  him  in  his  picture. 

"  In  giving  instruction  to  young  artists  he  used  to  say  very 
little,  but  he  would  take  the  palette  and  brushes  himself,  and  show 
them  a  great  deal.  He  never,  however,  took  this  trouble  with 
any  student  for  whom  he  felt  there  was  no  hope.  He  was  kind 
to  all  young  artists,  and  never  spoke  to  them  in  the  way  of  criti- 
cism without  some  qualifying  expression,  such  as,  'I  may  be 
wrong,'  or  1  Perhaps  you  are  right.' 

"  His  palette  was  always  kept  clean,  and  he  put  more  colour 
on  it  than  he  thought  he  should  use,  as  he  said  he  hated  a  starved 
palette.  On  the  same  principle  he  provided  himself  with  a  most 
liberal  supply  of  brushes,  in  the  choice  of  which  he  was  a  little 


xvi 


INTRODUCTION. 


different  from  most  artists  I  have  seen  work.  He  used  a  great 
many  more  sable  brushes  than  any  other,  and  was  especially  fond 
of  very  small  ones,  with  which  he  put  the  delicate  touches  on  his 
heads. 

"  He  worked  very  steadily  and  cheerfully,  keeping  up  a  sort  of 
whistling  at  times,  which  I  think  he  was  unconscious  of,  as  he  was 
always  absorbed  in  thinking  about  what  he  was  painting.  I  re- 
member him  once  walking  about  looking  for  his  palette-knife, 
which  he  was  holding  in  his  hand  all  the  time. 

"  He  had  a  very  pretty  habit  of  going  into  the  garden  before 
breakfast  and  picking  either  a  honeysuckle  or  a  rose  —  his  fa- 
vourite flowers  —  and  putting  them  in  a  glass  on  the  mantel-shelf 
in  his  painting-room.  I  hardly  ever  saw  his  room  in  the  summer 
without  these  flowers,  and  we  have  a  little  sketch  of  a  rose,  which 
he  picked  and  brought  into  the  house  so  gently  that  he  did  not 
disturb  a  beautiful  little  moth  on  it. 

"  He  took  a  great  interest  in  astronomy.  His  knowledge  of 
this  science  was  very  slight,  but  the  pleasure  he  had  in  the  vari- 
ous appearances  in  the  heavens  was  unbounded,  so  much  so,  that 
he  used  to  say  an  eclipse  seemed  to  take  place  on  purpose  for  his 
pleasure.  He  once  said  to  me  that  he  thought  it  very  likely  that 
part  of  our  happiness  in  the  next  life  would  be  derived  from  find- 
ing out  the  wonders  of  the  creation  which  are  hidden  to  us  here. 

"  He  entertained  the  greatest  veneration  for  all  celebrated  sci- 
entific men,  and  once  had  a  correspondence  with  Professor  Fara- 
day on  the  blue  colour  of  the  sky.  The  Professor's  kind  replies 
delighted  my  father  beyond  measure." 

The  following  was  the  usual  distribution  of  his 
day:  — 

"  He  would  rise,"  writes  his  son,  "  about  eight  o'clock  in  the 
winter,  and  about  seven  in  the  summer,  when  he  would  walk  in 
the  garden  before  breakfast.  He  had  breakfast  at  nine,  and  en- 
joyed the  newspaper  very  much,  taking  great  interest  in  poli- 
tics, or  any  topic  that  occupied  the  public  attention.  He  always 
read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  to  us  all  afterwards,  and  then,  about 
half-past  nine  or  ten,  he  would  commence  work,  sometimes  being 


ON  LESLIES  PICTURES. 


xvii 


read  to  at  the  same  time.  He  did  not  object  to  the  presence  of 
any  of  his  family  in  his  room,  but  sometimes,  when  very  busy, 
he  would  turn  us  out,  especially  the  younger  ones,  whom  he 
called  '  trudies,'  his  corruption  of  intruders.  He  was  never  irri- 
tated by  anything  whilst  at  work,  but  seemed  always  calm  and 
happy.  He  was  rather  absent  in  his  mind  about  trivial  things. 
He  would  sometimes  strike  a  carpet-pin,  mistaking  it  for  a  lucifer 
match,  and  was  very  apt  to  forget  people's  names,  unless  con- 
nected in  some  way  with  his  art.  But  if  any  one  possessed  a 
fine  picture,  however  commonplace  and  uninteresting  that  person 
might  otherwise  be,  he  always  remembered  his  name,  and  was  al- 
ways ready  to  go  and  see  him. 

"  He  lunched  at  one,  and  would  generally  leave  off  work  about 
four  o'clock,  when  he  would  go  out,  but  seldom  without  some  ob- 
ject, as  to  see  pictures  at  the  auction-rooms,  or  to  call  on  people 
who  possessed  pictures. 

"  He  dined  generally  at  six  o'clock,  and,  after  a  nap,  would 
either  play  at  chess,  which  he  was  very  fond  of,  or  else  would 
read  to  us  from  Shakespeare  or  '  Don  Quixote^  and  sometimes 
passages  from  '  Tristram  Shandy.'  He  was  very  fond  of  having 
friends  to  see  him  in  the  evening,  though  unless  his  company 
possessed  some  knowledge  of  the  art  he  took  but  little  pleasure 
in  them." 

The  Petworth  Collection  is  richest  in  Leslie's  pic- 
tures of  all  our  private  galleries  —  having  regard  to  the 
merit,  if  not  the  number,  of  the  pictures  it  contains. 
After  Petworth  must  be  ranked  the  galleries  of  Mr. 
John  Naylor  at  Leigh  ton  Hall,  Welshpool,  Mr.  Edwin. 
Bullock  and  Mr.  Joseph  Gillott  at  Birmingham,  Mr. 
Thomas  Miller  at  Preston,  and  Mrs.  Gibbons  in  the 
Regent's  Park,  London.  Our  National  Gallery,  espe- 
cially the  Sheepshanks  collection,  is,  happily,  richer  than 
even  the  richest  of  these.  * 

*  The  Duke  of  Bedford,  the  Earl  of  Essex,  Mr.  Harris,  Mr.  Bates,  Mr.  Bick- 
nell,  Mr.  Thomas  Baring,  Mr.  Heugh,  Mr.  Newsham,  Mr.  W.  C.  Sole,  and  other 
collectors  in  this  country,  possess  important  pictures  of  this  master.  There 

b 


xviii 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  is  pleasant  to  me  to  think  that  so  many  of  Leslie's 
pictures  should  have  found  a  home  among  the  mills  of 
Lancashire  and  the  smoking  forges  and  grimy  work- 
shops of  Birmingham.  They  are  eminently  calculated 
to  counteract  the  ignobler  influences  of  industrial  occu- 
pation by  their  inborn  refinement,  their  liberal  element 
of  loveliness,  their  sweet  sentiment  of  nature,  their  lite- 
rary associations,  and  their  genial  humour.  I  can  speak 
from  personal  observation  to  the  real  appreciation  of 
these  pictures  in  such  places,  not  on  the  part  of  their 
possessors  only,  but  among  the  many,  both  masters  and 
workmen,  to  whom  these  galleries  are  so  liberally  opened. 
Leslie  testifies  in  one  of  his  letters  to  the  extraordinary 
change  which  he  had  lived  to  see  in  the  source  and 
spread  of  patronage  for  the  painter.  The  nobleman  is  no 
longer  the  chief  purchaser  of  contemporary  pictures.  It 
is  mainly  to  our  great  manufacturing  and  trading  towns 
that  the  painter  has  to  look  for  the  sale  of  his  works. 
The  class  enriched  by  manufactures  and  commerce  is 
now  doing  for  art  in  England  what  the  same  class  did 
in  earlier  times  in  Florence,  Genoa,  and  Venice,  for  the 
art  of  Italy ;  in  Bruges,  Antwerp,  and  Amsterdam  for 
that  of  the  Low  Countries  and  Holland.  The  change 
may  have  its  evil  as  well  as  its  good.  There  may  be 
some  risk  that  it  will  multiply  the  manufacture  and  in- 
crease the  homeliness  of  pictures,  to  say  nothing  of  less 
direct  and  obvious  ill-consequences. 

But  against  such  risks  is  to  be  set  the  likelihood  that 
purchasers  of  this  class  will,  in  the  main,  insist  upon 
something  like  fidelity  to  nature,  and  truthfulness  of  ex- 
pression and  sentiment.  They  are  rarely  beset  by  pre- 
judice in  favour  of  old  schools  or  time-honoured  conven- 
tionalities ;  ceteris  paribus,  they  are  likely  to  prefer  pic- 
are  others  in  America,  in  the  collections  of  Col.  Lenox  of  New  York,  and  Mr. 
Joseph  Miller  of  Virginia,  U.  S. 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xix 


tures  which  are  the  growth  of  the  time,  and  appeal  to 
the  time,  to  those  which  belong  to  the  past,  and  speak 
to  the  past  —  or,  in  other  words  —  living  to  dead  art. 

In  Mr.  Naylor's  collection  the  painter  may  be  studied 
in  his  earliest  and  latest  manners,  —  in  the  6  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley  going  to  Church'  (1819),  (the  original  pic- 
ture painted  for  Mr.  Dunlop),  and  the  '  May  Day  in  the 
time  of  Queen  Elizabeth'  (1821);  and  in  one  of  the 
last  works  of  his  pencil,  '  The  Interview  of  Jeanie  Deans 
and  Queen  Caroline  '  (1859). 

The  two  former  pictures  demand  notice  first  as  works 
of  a  time  when  Leslie  was  most  himself;  that  is,  when 
he  had  felt  the  influence  of  neither  of  two  painters  who 
materially  affected  his  later  practice — Newton  on  the 
one  hand,  and  Constable  on  the  other. 

Both  these  pictures  are  simply  painted,  with  a  due 
admixture  of  solid  and  glazing  colour;  and  neither 
shows  the  least  sign  of  impaired  tone  or  failing  surface. 
They  are  as  bright  and  sunny  in  effect,  and  as  free  from 
crack  or  decay,  as  when  first  painted. 

The  original  'Sir  Roger'  is  finer  in  tone  than  the 
repetition.  Parts  of  it  indicate  a  close  study  of  Ho- 
garth, especially  the  old  yeoman  who  stands  to  receive 
the  Squire's  greeting,  with  his  fresh,  pretty  daughter  on 
his  arm.  In  the  latter  I  recognise  the  lady  who,  some 
four  or  five  years  after  the  picture  was  painted,  became 
the  painter's  wife.  Sir  Roger,  in  his  full  suit  of  crim- 
son velvet,  on  his  way  up  the  pathway  to  the  little 
church,  pats  on  the  head  the  widow's  children,  who 
look  up  to  him  with  round,  wondering  eyes.  Their 
mother  is  a  sweet  and  comely  rustic  matron.  The  head 
of  Sir  Roger,  Leslie  tells  us  in  his  Life  *of  Constable, 
was  painted  from  an  old  Royal  Academician,  Mr. 
Bigg,*  likelier  to  go  down  to  posterity  in  this  picture 

*  "  I  thought  him,"  he  says,  "  in  appearance  and  manners,  a  perfect  speci- 


XX 


INTRODUCTION. 


of  Leslie's  than  in  any  of  his  own  works.  The  Spec- 
tator, who  accompanies  Sir  Roger,  is  commonplace 
enough.  But  he  is,  after  all,  but  a  colourless  personage 
in  Addison's  own  hands.  The  rustics  who  line  the 
pathway  are  all  true  to  nature.  Besides  the  group  of 
the  old  man  and  daughter  already  described,  there  is  a 
full-blown  young  woman,  sticking  a  flower  into  her 
boddice,  and  a  moon-faced  labourer,  in  a  smock  frock, 
looking  over 'her  shoulder,  both  quite  worthy  of  Ho- 
garth. Even  in  this  picture  —  painted  in  1819,  when 
the  painter  was  only  twenty-four,  —  there  is  no  observa- 
ble deficiency  either  in  drawing,  colouring,  or  composi- 
tion, or  in  linear  or  aerial  perspective. 

I  should  say  at  least  as  much  for  the  '  May-Day,'  in 
which,  besides  all  these  merits  in  the  figures,  there  is 
shown  a  power  of  effective  landscape-painting,  of  which 
Leslie  has  left  us  few  examples.  The  scene  may  be 
supposed  to  be  in  Kent.  The  foreground  is  a  knoll, 
from  which  the  eye  ranges  over  a  wide  stretch  of  level 
and  richly  cultivated  woodland,  with  a  distant  manor- 
house  and  church.  Overhead  is  a  bright  spring  sky, 
with  wreaths  of  sunlit  cloud.  The  family  and  guests 
of  the  manor-house  furnish  the  foreground  groups,  the 
principal  of  which  is  made  up  of  a  fantastically  dressed 
gentleman  of  the  court  in  crimson  velvet,  and  the  rustic 
beauty  of  the  manor  to  whom  he  is  paying  euphuistic 
court.  She  timidly  accepts  his  offered  hand  for  the 
dance,  hardly  understanding  the  meaning  of  his  quaint 
and  far-fetched  phrases.  She  wears  a  tawny  robe,  over 
a  blue  petticoat.  To  the  right  of  the  foreground,  a 
stately  Elizabethan  dame,  in  farthingale  of  scarlet  and 
gold,  and  am^le  ruff,  looks  on  at  the  sports,  while  her 
jester  behind  her  in  red,  yellow,  and  green  motley,  slyly 

men  of  an  old-fashioned  English  gentleman.  He  was  one  of  the  most  amiable 
men  who  ever  existed." 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxi 


draws  an  ass  in  a  lion's  skin  on  the  buckler  of  one  of 
the  blue-coated  serving-men,  who  complete  the  right- 
hand  group.  A  little  further  off,  to  the  left,  are  gath- 
ered, in  reclining  groups  on  the  grass,  or  standing  under 
the  trees,  the  rest  of  the  gentry,  who  have  assembled  to 
watch  the  shooting  at  the  butts  and  the  May  games,  in 
full  swing  on  the  green  below.  You  see  part  of  the 
line  of  the  merry  morris-dance,  where  the  meadow  falls 
beyond  the  foreground.  These  dancers  are  drawn  and 
grouped  with  a  spirit  and  freedom  not  unworthy  of  Ru- 
bens. Near  them  stands  the  old  sable-clad  schoolmas- 
ter—  rod  in  hand,  and  spectacles  on  nose  —  who  watches 
the  dancers  himself,  reverently  and  fearfully  watched  the 
whole  time  by  a  group  of  his  small  scholars,  who  clearly 
are  not  satisfied  that  the  rod  is  there  by  mere  inad- 
vertence of  habit.  On  the  level  sward  in  the  distance 
sits  the  May  Queen  under  her  arbour,  while  before  her 
sweeps  the  merry  rout  of  masquers  round  the  May-pole 
—  Robin  Hood  and  Maid  Marian,  Much  and  Scathe- 
lock,  Little  John  and  Friar  Tuck,  with  the  fool,  the 
dragon  and  the  hobby-horse,  surrounded  by  a  ring  of 
applauding  village  spectators.  As  we  look,  we  seem  to 
feel  the  fresh  soft  spring  breeze  among  the  trees  ;  to  hear 
the  clashing  peal  from  the  steeple,  mingled  with  the 
pipe  and  tabor,  and  the  sound  of  joyous  carouse,  over 
beef  and  ale,  from  the  booth  beyond. 

I  know  no  blither,  brighter,  more  exhilarating  picture. 
There  is  masterly  skill,  and  truth  above  all,  in  its  dis- 
tribution of  light  and  shadow,  always  so  difficult  in  a 
day-light,  open-air  picture,  with  many  figures.  The 
well-known  engraving  by  Watt  does  justice  to  it. 

Next  in  order  of  time,  to  these  pictures,  come  those 
in  the  gallery  at  Petworth.  First  of  these  stands  '  San- 
cho  and  the  Duchess.'  Of  all  Leslie's  pictures  this  is 
probably  the  most  popular,  and  in  none  are  his  peculiar 


xxii 


INTRODUCTION. 


merits  more  gracefully  and  happily  displayed.  The  in- 
cident is  fully  described  in  the  passage  *  from  Shelton's 
translation  of  Don  Quixote,  which  accompanied  the 
picture  in  the  Academy  catalogue  for  1824. 

In  the  expressions  of  the  actors,  the  painter  has  caught 
the  very  spirit  of  the  scene.  Sancho  half-shrewd,  half- 
obtuse,  takes  the  Duchess  into  his  confidence,  with  a 
finger  laid  along  his  nose ;  his  way  of  sitting  shows  that 
he  is  on  a  style  of  seat  he  is  unused  to.  Chantrey  sat 
to  Leslie  for  the  expression  of  the  Sancho,  and  his  hearty 
sense  of  humour  qualified  him  to  embody  the  charac- 
ter well.  The  Duchess's  enjoyment  breaks  through  the 
habitual  restraint  of  her  high  breeding,  and  the  grave 
courtesy  of  her  Spanish  manners,  in  the  sweetest  half- 
smile —  a  triumph  of  subtle  expression.  The  sour  and 
literal  Dona  Rodriguez  is  evidently  not  forgetful  how 
Sancho,  on  his  arrival,  had  desired  her  to  have  a  care  of 
Dapple.  The  mirth  of  the  whispering  waiting-maids 
culminates  in  the  broad  sunshiny  grin  of  the  mulatto- 
woman.  Nor  has  Leslie  ever  been  happier  in  the  com- 
position of  any  picture. 

All  the  accessories  are  painted  with  fine  finish,  the 
nicest  sense  of  propriety,  and  careful  attention  to  effects 
of  direct  and  reflected  light.  Petworth  was  a  treasure- 
house  to  Leslie  of  old-world  wealth  in  furniture,  jewel- 
lery, china,  and  toilet  ornaments ;  and  during  his  visits 
there  he  made  careful  and  numerous  studies  of  such 
objects.  Here  he  saw  and  studied  such  things  in  their 
places,  which  may  help  to  account  for  the  naturalness 
and  propriety  with  which  they  are  always  introduced 
by  him. 

The  three  versions  f  of  this  subject  are  full  of  varia- 

*  See  correspondence  of  that  year. 

f  I  might  have  said  four,  for  I  have  just  learnt  that  there  is  a  fourth  Sancho, 
which  had  found  its  way  to  the  United  States,  and  is  now  in  this  country,  in 
the  gallery  of  Mr.  Farnworth.    Leslie  painted  a  good  deal  upon  it  after  its  ar- 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxiii 


tions  in  detail.  Leslie  never  repeated  a  picture  exactly. 
In  the  Petworth  picture  the  principal  light  falls  upon  the 
lovely  face  and  white  satin  robe  of  the  Duchess,  and  is 
carried  out  by  the  lightish  green  china  vase  to  the  left. 
In  the  Vernon  repetition,  the  principal  light  is  focussed 
by  the  white  and  gold  pilasters,  conducted  thence  by 
the  Duchess's  head  and  shoulders,  and  the  duenna's 
white  apron,  —  which  is  wanting  in  the  Petworth  orig- 
inal,—  and  carried  out  to  the  left  by  the  open  music- 
book  and  the  back  of  the  chair ;  while  on  the  right  it  is 
continued  in  both  by  the  shoulder  of  the  mulatto,  the 
head-dress  and  collar  of  one  of  the  waiting  women, 
and  Sancho's  shining  bald  pate.  The  Petworth  San- 
cho  has  blue  breeches :  the  Vernon  Sancho  is  dressed 
entirely  in  black  and  drab.  In  the  original  picture  the 
Duchess's  inner  robe  is  a  pure  silvery  satin,  deliciously 
painted  ;  the  outer  robe  a  delicate  purplish  grey ;  in  the 
Vernon  picture  her  inner  dress  is  a  light  golden  yellow  : 
her  saccque  a  darker  purple  lined  with  green.  The 
wall  to  the  right,  in  the  earlier  version,  is  covered  with 
green  tapestry.  This  tapestry  is  red,  with  a  blue  border 
in  the  later  one.  There  is  no  picture  of  the  Duke  on 
the  wall  behind  the  Duchess  in  the  Petworth  original, 
as  there  is  in  the  Vernon  repetition.  The  dress  of  the 
waiting  damsel  in  the  foreground  of  the  earlier  version 
is  a  warm  salmon  colour ;  it  is  russet  green  in  the  other ; 
and  the  flower  on  the  toilet-table  is  red  in  the  former, 
white  in  the  latter  picture.  In  the  quality  of  its  colour 
the  Petworth  picture  is,  to  my  mind,  immeasurably  finer 
than  either  the  version  of  the  subject  painted  for  Mr. 
Rogers,  or  that  painted  for  Mr.  Vernon. 

The  lines  of  the  composition  are  the  same  in  all  three 
pictures ;  and  the  general  distribution  of  the  light  and 

rival  here  from  North  America;  but  not  having  seen  this  picture  I  can  say 
nothing  of  its  variations  from  the  others. 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

shade  is  identical,  though  the  objects  which  make  up 
the  balance  of  colour  are  varied  in  each,  with  great 
pains,  and  thorough  knowledge. 

The  Rogers  picture  brought  eleven  hundred  and  fifty- 
guineas  at  the  sale  of  the  poet's  gallery.  Mr.  Leslie 
was  present.  A  country  dealer  seated  beside  him,  who 
had  been  absent  from  the  room  when  the  picture  was 
knocked  down,  seeing  that  Mr.  Leslie  had  noted  the 
prices  in  his  catalogue,  asked  to  look  at  it.  "  Good 
gracious  me !  Eleven  hundred  and  fifty  guineas  for 
Leslie's  picture  !  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  price, 
sir?"  "Monstrous,  is  it  not?"  said  Leslie,  who  told 
the  story  to  his  family  with  great  glee  on  his  return 
home. 

The  Petworth  picture  is  singularly  rich  and  harmoni- 
ous in  effect,  and  transparent  throughout  in  its  paint- 
ing. It  is,  I  think,  altogether,  for  expression,  composi- 
tion, and  colour,  the  finest  example  of  the  painter,  and 
exhibits  him  in  the  very  prime  of  his  powers,  and  while 
under  the  influence  of  Newton  as  a  colourist  and  work- 
man. But  the  surface  has  cracked  slightly,  owing  to 
the  incautious  use  of  glazing  colours  —  asphaltum, 
above  all,  that  most  fatal  to  durability  of  all  pig- 
ments. The  repetitions,  though  less  glowing,  are  both 
in  perfect  preservation,'  and  are  solidly  and  simply 
painted,  with  a  very  cautious  use  of  glazing.  They 
both  belong  to  the  period  when  Constable's  influence 
had  superseded  Newton's,  and  when  Leslie  was  satis- 
fied that  his  pictures  should  look  white  and  chalky 
while  fresh,  in  the  faith  that  they  would  mellow  with 
time.  His  practice  exemplifies  the  only"  case  in  which 
the  colour  of  pictures  does  really  change  for  the  better. 
Leslie's  later  works  have  mellowed  in  a  very  noticeable 
degree.  I  can  myself  perceive  that  even  his  latest  and 
weakest  pictures  —  the  '  Jeanie  Deans  '  for  example  — 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


XXV 


have  improved  wonderfully  "in  the  short  period  which 
has  elapsed  since  they  were  painted. 

After  the  '  Sancho,'  the  most  interesting  picture  at 
Petworth  is  the  i  Catherine  and  Petruchio.'  This  is  the 
first  version  of  the  subject,  of  which  the  Sheepshanks' 
picture  is  a  repetition  with  variations.  For  example, 
the  remains  of  the  meal  on  the  table  to  the  right  of  the 
spectator  are  quite  different  in  the  two,  though  touched 
in  both  with  a  precision  worthy  of  Teniers.  In  this 
case  also  the  colour  of  the  Petworth  picture  is  superior 
in  glow  and  power,  and  I  did  not  detect  in  it  any  sign 
of  cracking.  In  their  disposition  of  colours,  the  two 
pictures  are  very  much  alike ;  but  we  have  only  to  com- 
pare the  satin  gown,  which  is  the  object  of  Petruchio's 
rage,  in  the  one  and  in  the  other,  to  recognise  how 
much  more  powerful  Leslie  was  in  his  management  of 
colour  in  1832,  than  at  the  later  date  of  the  Sheep- 
shanks' picture. 

The  '  Introduction  of  Gulliver  to  the  Queen  of  Brob- 
dingnag,'  (1835)  appears  to  me  a  mistake  in  subject, 
and  a  very  inferior  work  of  the  painter's  in  all  techni- 
cal respects.  Instead  of  the  Brobdingnagians  looking 
like  giants,  Gulliver  looks  like  a  pigmy.  The  colour, 
tried  by  Leslie's  own  standard,  is  violent  without  being 
rich,  and  for  the  first  and  last  time,  as  far  as  I  know,  in 
Leslie's  pictures,  appears  to  me  unrefined  and  inharmo- 
nious.* The  only  passage  of  humour  worthy  of  the 
painter  is  the  face  of  the  old  lady,  who  is  curiously  exam- 
ining the  strange  little  creature  through  her  eye-glass,  and 
the  look  of  the  farmer's  little  girl  who  is  crying  for  the  loss 
of  her  plaything.  The  other  Petworth  pictures  — '  Lady 
Carlisle  carrying  the  pardon  to  her  Father  in  the  Tower, 
and  'Charles  II.  at   Tillietudlem '  —  must  be  classed 

*  Another  picture  very  closely  resembling  this  in  the  quality  of  its  colour, 
is  the  '  Columbus,'  now  in  the  Collection  of  Joseph  Gillott,  Esq. 


XXVI 


INTRODUCTION. 


in  the  second  rank  of  the  painter's  works.  The  first 
subject  is  hardly  a  paintable  one.  It  is  impossible  to 
convey,  by  a  momentary  expression,  the  conflict  in  the 
Duke's  mind  between  the  temptation  of  liberty,  the 
stubbornness  of  parental  authority  outraged  by  his 
daughter's  marriage  against  his  will,  and  the  haughty 
consciousness  of  innocence,  which  kept  him  so  long  a 
prisoner  when  the  least  submission  or  effort  might  have 
opened  his  dungeon  door.  Nor  is  there  anything  very 
available  for  t*he  painter  in  the  Duke's  "  three  magi,"  — 
Harriot,  Warner,  and  Hughes ;  nor  does  one  see  very 
clearly  what  part  Raleigh  is  taking  in  the  action  of  the 
picture.  Perhaps  the  point  of  effect,  after  all,  is  in  the 
contrast  of  the  eager,  fluttering  young  woman,  and  the 
serene  abstraction  of  the  two  learned  prisoners,  and 
their  three  aged  companions  in  study,  thus  startlingly 
broken  in  upon.  The  stately  old  lady  of  Tillietudlem 
gives  a  better  opportunity  to  the  painter,  and  he  has  in- 
dicated her  delighted  pride  in  the  King's  salute,  in  his 
happiest  manner.  There  is  Lesliean  humour  too,  in  the 
introduction  of  Cuddie  Headri gg  as  an  attendant  strip- 
ling, gazing,  open-mouthed,  upon  the  royal  visitor. 

To  those  who  feel  an  affection  for  Leslie,  Petworth  is 
almost  as  interesting  for  its  associations  with  the  paint- 
er's life  and  works  as  for  his  pictures  to  be  seen  there. 
It  was  here  that  he  was  able  to  study  the  forms  and  col- 
our of  rococo  furniture  —  of  tapestried  chairs,  China 
jars  and  monsters,  broad  Venetian  mirrors,  gorgeous 
brocade  and  damask  hangings,  and  massive  silver  and 
silver-gilt  plate,  still  in  daily  use.  You  may  see  at  Pet- 
worth,  where  Leslie  is  still  affectionately  remembered  by 
the  old  servants,  the  screen  and  chairs  which  he  has 
painted  in  the  '  Rape  of  the  Lock  ; '  the  old  globe,  intro- 
duced in  the  '  Lady  Carlisle ; '  the  carved  mirror  and 
jewelled  casket  of  the  Duchess's  toilet-table ;  Sophia 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxvii 


Western's  China  jars,  and  console  ;  the  window,  with 
its  look  out  on  the  swelling  slopes  of  the  park,  where 
sweet  Lady  Jane  Grey  sits  absorbed  in  Plato,  while  the 
hounds  and  horns  are  making  merry  music  in  the  sun- 
shine without.  Here  is  the  very  Gainsborough  which 
Constable  tells  Leslie  he  could  not  "  even  think  of  with- 
out tears  in  his  eyes,"  and  the  Bassan  which  Leslie  was 
allowed  to  have  up  in  his  bed-room  ;  Vandyke's  Lady 
Anne  Carr,  which  showed  him  the  height  to  which  high- 
bred grace  and  loveliness  could  be  carried  in  portrait- 
ure; Titian's  Catherine  Cornaro,  to  reveal  the  still  deeper 
magic  of  diffused  Venetian  splendour.  Here  too,  among 
some  of  Turner's  finest  landscapes,  and  Romney's  most 
bewitching  repetitions  of  Lady  Hamilton's  haunting 
face,  the  visitor  will  find  the  '  Jacob's  Dream,'  the  master- 
piece of  Leslie's  early  friend  Allston,  a  correct  but  cold 
Academic  production,  with  a  grace  that  seems  to  belong 
half  to  Westall,  half  to  Raffaelle ;  and  the  '  Contempla- 
tion,' of  the  same  painter,  a  female  figure  of  a  conven- 
tional cast  of  beauty,  in  a  somewhat  affected  attitude, 
backed  by  a  mannered  landscape. 

Don  Quixote  was  a  favorite  source  of  subjects  to 
Leslie.  Besides  his  thrice  repeated  '  Sancho  in  the 
apartment  of  the  Duchess,'  we  owe  to  the  same  book 
many  of  the  painter's  best  pictures.  As  first  of  these 
in  date  after  the  '  Sancho '  should  be  mentioned,  '  Don 
Quixote  while  doing  penance  in  the  Sierra  Morena, 
deceived  by  the  disguised  Dorothea  and  the  Barber.' 
The  picture  belongs  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  for  whom  it 
was  painted,  and  has  been  well  engraved. 

The  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance,  "  all  naked 
to  his  shirt,  lean  and  yellow,"  courteously  promises  to 
redress  the  wrongs  of  the  "  fair  princess  Micomecona, 
Queen  of  the  Great  Kingdom  of  Micomeca  in  Ethi- 
opia."   Dorothea  kneels  before  the  knight  in  her  gor- 


XXV111 


INTEODUCTION. 


geous  attire  —  "  a  whole  gown  of  very  rich  stuff,  and  a 
short  mantle  of  another  green  stuff,  and  a  collar,  and 
many  other  rich  jewels,"  —  while  her  train  is  borne  by 
the  masquerading  Barber,  who  kneels  before  the  mules, 
with  much-ado  keeping  on  the  beard  that  hangs  down 
to  his  girdle,  "  half  red  and  half  white,  as  being  made  of 
the  tail  of  a  pied  ox."  Sancho  whispers  the  mysterious 
lady's  quality  in  his  master's  ear,  while  the  Don's  ar- 
mour hangs  like  a  trophy  on  the  cork-tree  to  the  right. 

The  knight  is  an  admirable  conception,  dignified, 
courteous,  and  gentle  in  his  craziness ;  and  quite  indif- 
ferent to  his  scanty  costume,  in  his  anxiety  to  relieve  the 
injured  princess.  Leslie  was  the  very  man  to  appre- 
ciate the  noble  side  of  Don  Quixote's  character;  and 
even  if  his  own  refinement  had  not  revealed  this  side 
to  him,  he  had  ample  opportunity  of  learning  it  from 
Coleridge's  exposition  of  the  profound  conception  of 
Cervantes.  This  picture  is  another  good  example  of 
the  painter's  best  time  as  a  colourist ;  but  it  is  not  supe- 
rior in  this  respect  to  the  little  sketch  of  the  subject  in 
the  National  Collection,  which  is  quite  Venetian  in  its 
glow  of  harmonious  colour. 

I  know  only  from  the  engraving  the  head  of  Don 
Quixote  painted  in  1827.  Perhaps  Ogilvie  sat  for  it  — 
an  old  friend  of  Irving's  and  Leslie's.  He  was  certainly 
one  of  his  models  for  the  knight.  Another  was  an  old 
Frenchman  —  a  protege  of  Constable's  —  called  Fon- 
taine. But  I  think  I  trace  Leslie's  own  features  in 
the  Don  Quixote  of  Mr.  Bates's  picture,  and  I  am  told 
by  his  son  that  he  was  much  in  the  habit  of  studying 
expressions  from  his  own  face.  He  painted  a  head  of 
Sancho  too,  in  1827.  But  the  admirable  '  Sancho '  in 
the  Sheepshanks'  Collection  is  of  the  date  of  1839. 
This  is  the  engraved  head.  Sancho  sits  at  his  Tan- 
talus-table, in  the  sumptuous  palace  of  his  capital  of 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxix 


Barataria,  the  laced  bib  under  his  chin.  You  see  the 
hand  of  the  physician  Don  Pedro  Regio  de  Aquero, 
holding  the  whalebone  rod  at  whose  touch  the  dishes 
vanish  from  before  the  hungry  Governor.  We  may 
suppose  the  partridges  to  have  been  borne  away  by  tap 
of  rod,  followed  by  the  boiled  conies  and  the  veal  — 
and  last  but  worst — the  olla  podrida.  Sancho's  choler 
is  just  rising  to  that  point  at  which,  after  threats  to  do 
for  the  physician,  he  bids  them  let  him  eat,  or  else  take 
his  government  again :  for  "  an  office  that  will  not  afford 
a  man  his  victuals,  is  not  worth  two  beans."  Leslie 
painted  the  scene  in  full  for  Lady  Chantrey,  in  1855. 
I  will  not  venture  to' speak  of  the  merits  of  that  pic- 
ture from  my  half-effaced  recollection  of  it  in  that  year's 
Exhibition,  and  it  was  not  within  my  reach  while  pre- 
paring these  remarks.  But  the  Sheepshanks'  4  Sancho  ' 
all  can  see,  at  cost  of  a  visit  to  South  Kensington. 
More  truthful  humour  was  never  put  on  canvas  of  the 
same  dimensions  by  any  painter  at  any  period.  The 
hot,  hungry  impatience,  and  indignant  questioning  ex- 
pression of  the  face  are  irresistible.  It  is  only  a  pity 
that,  to  enjoy  the  picture  thoroughly,  one  must  know 
one's  Don  Quixote  well.  As  a  piece  of  sound,  solid 
painting,  this  head  ranks  high  among  Leslie's  minor 
works.  Chantrey  may  have  aided  Leslie  as  a  model 
for  the  expression.  But  the  head  was  painted,  his  son 
George  tells  me,  from  the  family  fly-driver.  The  Dul- 
cinea  which  hangs  near  it  might  as  well  be  called  by 
any  other  name.  It  is  neither  the  Dulcinea  indicated 
in  Cervantes,  nor  a  Spanish  peasant-girl  at  all.  Proba- 
bly the  painter  never  gave  it  the  name  of  Dulcinea. 

The  picture  painted  for  Mr.  Bates  in  1849  represents 
the  Duke's  chaplain  leaving  the  table  in  disgust  at  his 
lord's  encouragement  of  Don  Quixote's  delusions.  The 
canvas  is  of  the  largest  dimensions  ever  ventured  on  by 


XXX 


INTRODUCTION. 


Leslie.  In  a  rich  hall  of  noble  decorated  architecture 
is  spread  a  stately  table,  covered  with  silver  plate,  fruit, 
and  wine  in  chased  flagons.  Don  Quixote,  in  the  cen- 
tre, in  his  straight  hose  and  chamois  doublet,  draped  in 
"  the  fair  mantle  of  finest  scarlet,"  which  the  two  beau- 
tiful damsels  had  cast  upon  his  shoulders  on  entering 
the  castle,  drawn  up  to  his  full  height,  and  "  trembling 
from  head  to  foot  like  a  man  filled  with  quicksilver,"  is 
delivering  that  impassioned  and  grave  rebuke  to  the 
vulgar -Canon  —  "  Is  it,  happily,  a  vain  plot  or  time  ill 
spent,  to  range  through  the  world  not  seeking  its  dain- 
ties but  the  bitterness  of  it,  whereby  good  men  aspire 
to  the  seat  of  immortality?  ....  Some  go  by  the 
spacious  field  of  proud  ambition  ;  others  by  the  way  of 
servile  and  base  flattery;  a  third  sort  by  deceitful  hypoc- 
risy; and  few  by  that  of  true  religion.  But  I,  by  my 
star's  inclination,  go  in  the  narrow  path  of  knight- 
errantry  ;  for  whose  exercise  I  despise  wealth,  but  not 
honour;  I  have  satisfied  grievances,  rectified  wrongs,  chas- 
tised insolencies,  overcome  giants,  trampled  over  spirits." 
By  the  hidalgo's  side  stands  Sancho,  just  risen  to  vindi- 
cate himself  and  his  master.  The  Duke,  in  black  velvet 
doublet  and  purple  hose,  is  enjoying  the  wrath  of  the  in- 
dignant churchman,  hiding  his  laughter  behind  his  hand. 
The  face  of  the  gentle  Duchess,  who  looks  up  at  the 
angry  confessor  from  among  her  attendant  damsels,  is 
irradiated  with  one  of  those  latent  half-smiles,  by  the 
charm  of  which  Leslie  has  enabled  us  almost  to  excuse 
in  her  the  thoughtlessness  that  could  find  matter  for 
mirth  and  practical  joking  in  the  wreck  of  Don  Quix- 
ote's noble  nature.  The  puzzled  but  well-disciplined 
attendants  stand  round,  doing  their  best  to  suppress  all 
expression  in  their  looks.  In  the  fore-ground  the  indig- 
nant ecclesiastic  is  sweeping  out  of  the  room  with  pro- 
testing hands  outstretched,  and  an  angry  flutter  of  his 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxxi 


ample  black  robes,  his  fat,  vulgarly-imperious  face  swol- 
len and  inflamed  with  rage  —  ".Your  Excellency  is  as 
mad  as  any  of  these  sinners  ;  and  see  if  they  must  not 
needs  be  mad,  when  wise  men  canonise  their  madness. 
Your  Excellency  may  do  well  to  stay  with  them,  for 
whilst  they  be  here  I'll  get  me  home,  and  save  a  labour 
of  correcting  what  I  cannot  amend." 

I  am  inclined  to  think  this  the  finest  picture,  both  in 
point  of  expression  and  technical  qualities,  painted  in 
the  latter  half  of  Leslie's  career.  Its  tone  is  luminous 
and  rich,  without  blackness.  The  architectural  features 
are  peculiarly  graceful  and  stately.  The  figure  of  the 
chaplain  is  admirably  conceived  and  perfectly  natural ; 
in  the  angry  insolence  of  the  attitude  and  countenance 
you  see  the  overbearing  indignation  of  the  narrow- 
minded  man,  accustomed  to  lay  down  the  law  and 
to  be  listened  to  —  and  now  bearded  by  a  madman ! 
Don  Quixote  is  thoroughly  earnest  and  dignified  ;  San- 
cho  inimitably  quaint  and  sturdy.  The  plate  and  des- 
sert on  the  table  are  painted  with  the  greatest-  relish, 
and  a  precision  worthy  of  Teniers.  Leslie  had  a  pas- 
sion for  fine  old  silver,  and  preferred  its  pictorial  effect 
to  that  of  gold  plate.  He  made  the  most  careful  water- 
colour  studies  of  every  thing  on  the  table,  down  to  the 
figs,  grapes,  and  melons,  and  borrowed  the  plate  for 
painting  from  Storr  and  Mortimer's,  I  believe.  Mr.  E. 
M.  Ward,  the  Royal  Academician,  stood  for  the  figure 
of  the  attendant,  near  the  entrance  in  the  back-ground, 
and  his  brother  for  the  Duke.  •  He  had  Spanish  models 
for  some  of  the  other  heads.  The  Duchess,  in  her 
dove-coloured  robe  and  ruff,  is  only  second,  for  high- 
bred charm,  to  the  Duchess  of  the  Petworth  picture.* 

*  I  gather  from  the  extracts  in  the  Royal  Academy  Catalogues,  that  Leslie 
used  Shelton's  —  the  raciest  and  oldest  —  translation  of  the  masterpiece  of 
Cervantes,  made  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second. 


xxxii 


INTRODUCTION. 


There  is  a  little  picture  in  the  collection  of  Mr.  Jo- 
seph Gillott,  at  Birmingham,  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
reading  '  Don  Quixote.'  It  has  a  sober  power  in  its 
colour,  and  a  quiet  gracefulness  in  its  composition  that 
make  it  very  noticeable  in  spite  of  its  small  size. 

After  Addison  and  Cervantes,  Leslie  resorted  for  sub- 
jects to  Shakespeare,  Moliere,  Swift,  Pope,  Sterne,  Field- 
ing, Goldsmith,  and  Smollett.  Besides  his  illustrations 
of  books,  he  painted  portraits,  a  few  subjects  from  Eng- 
lish and  Spanish  history,  some  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  a  very  few  from  his  own  invention.  I  propose 
to  notice  briefly  the  principal  works  in  each  of  these 
classes.  As  he  began  and  ended  with  Shakespeare,  — 
painting  '  Murder'  from  'Macbeth,'  as  his  first  picture, 
in  1813,  and  '  Hotspur  and  Lady  Percy,'  as  his  last,  in 
1859  —  and  as  he  took  more  of  his  important  compo- 
sitions from  our  great  dramatic  poet  than  from  any 
other  single  source,  I  notice  the  Shakespeare  subjects 
first. 

'  The.'  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,'  for  reasons  one  can 
easily  understand,  was  a  special  favorite  with  Leslie. 
Its  life-like,  genial  pictures  of  English  country  manners 
in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  and  its  copious  introduction 
of  marked  types  of  humorous  character,  gratified  the 
painter's  peculiar  tastes,  and  suggested  capital  subjects 
for  his  pencil.  The  play  is  eminently  English  in  feel- 
ing, and  Leslie  was  "  ipsis  Anglis  Anglior"  He  loved 
and  knew  the  quiet  meadows  and  shady  elms  of  Wind- 
sor, and  all  the  green  borders  of  Ihe  Thames  from 
Hampton  to  Maidenhead.  I  have  no  doubt  he  believed, 
with  perfect  faith,  in  the  inmates  and  visitors  at  Ford's 
and  Page's.  They  were  to  him  actual  men  and  women, 
and  not  clothes-pegs.  He  painted  the  scene  of  '  Slen- 
der's  Courtship  '  three  times,  besides  the  early  picture 
of  the  garden  scene,  with  Anne  inviting  her  bashful 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTUEES. 


xxxiii 


admirer  in  to  dinner.  I  have  seen  none  of  these  pic- 
tures, and  only  know  their  composition  from  the  plates. 
The  former  has  been  well  engraved  for  the  American 
Art  Union,  from  which  I  infer  that  one  of  the  three  ver- 
sions of  the  subject  is  now  in  America. 

The  scene  is  an  oak-panneled  parlour  in  Page's  house. 
Anne  stands  in  the  bay  window,  with  the  summer  light 
glowing  in  her  pretty  face  and  on  her  rounded  figure,  as 
she  plucks  a  flower  to  pieces  to  give  herself  a  counte- 
nance. Slender  stands  afar  off,  hat  in  hand  and  looking 
half  sheepish,  half  scared,  and  wholly  silly ;  while  Shal- 
low, in  his  velvet  coif,  with  an  emphatic  crutch -handled 
stick  to  give  point  to  his  periods,  spurs  him  on  to  his 
wooing.  Judging  from  the  engraving,  the  picture  must  be 
a  peculiarly  sunny  one,  suggesting  pleasant  country  life 
in  low-roofed  old  oak-panneled  rooms,  with  buck's  heads 
over  the  doors,  moral  saws  carved  over  the  heavy  man- 
tel-pieces, iron  dogs  on  the  hearths,  a  pleasant  breath 
of  lavender  and  honeysuckle  from  the  garden  without, 
and  glimpses  of  the  castle  and  the  park  oaks,  through 
the  broad,  stone-shafted,  deep-bayed  lattice  windows. 
I  have  little  doubt  all  these  interiors  were  painted  from 
real  houses.  They  have  a  look  of  such  genuine  truth. 
It  is  in  the  chief  room  of  such  a  house  that  he  has  twice 
painted  Page's  dinner-party  —  with  the  pippins  and 
cheese  on  the  side-table  —  first  in  1831,  and  afterwards 
in  1838.  The  second  picture  is  at  South  Kensington. 
He  has  been  happier,  I  think,  in  later  Falstaffs.  The 
fat  knight,  in  chamois  doublet  and  long  boots  —  a  bot- 
tom of  sherris-sack  in  his  glass  —  is  passing  compli- 
ments with  Mrs.  Ford  and  Mrs.  Page,  who  stand  arm- 
in-arm  a  little  behind  him  —  two  plump,  comely,  sly- 
looking  matrons,  in  whose  faces  the  painter  has  cleverly 
indicated  their  mutual  understanding  and  quiet  resolve 
to  have  their  will  of  the  greasy  old  cozener.  Page,  with 
c 


xxxiv 


INTRODUCTION. 


his  broad  back  to  the  spectators,  swings  back  in  his 
chair,  offering  a  cool  tankard  to  poor  Slender,  who,  with 
Simple  in  attendance  behind  him,  fidgets  uncomfort- 
ably on  the  edge  of  his  stool,  his  embarrassing  beaver 
and  gloves  beside  him,  not  daring  to  lift  his  eyes  to 
demure  Mistress  Anne,  sitting  coyly  apart  on  her  own 
side  of  the  table.  Ford  is  draining  his  glass  higher  up 
the  board,  beyond  the  group  formed  by  Bardolph  and 
Pistol,  who  are  noisily  claiming  Sir  John's  ear.  Shal- 
low, at  the  opposite  end  of  the  table  to  Page,  is  directing 
Sir  Hugh  Evans's  attention  to  the  progress  of  Slender's 
sheepish  wooing.  Through  the  broad  window  behind 
the  justice  the  creepers  and  trees  of  the  garden  make  a 
pleasant  rest  for  the  eye.  The  side-table,  on  the  right 
of  the  fore-ground,  is  spread  with  the  immortal  pippins 
and  cheese,  painted  with  that  truth  and  relish  which 
Leslie  always  puts  into  the  accessories  of  his  pictures, 
but  not  so  daguerreotypically  wrought  as  to  divide  and 
distract  attention  from  more  important  matters.  Over 
the  broad  fire-place  is  one  of  those  gnomic  inscriptions, 
once  common  in  English  country-houses,  and  the  logs 
are  smouldering  —  summer  as  it  is  —  against  the  fire- 
dogs  on  the  open  hearth.  The  picture  is  a  fine  example 
of  the  painter's  middle  manner,  without  any  dangerous 
use  of  asphaltum,  (of  which  the  visitor  may  see  the 
charm  and  danger  exemplified  in  Newton's  <  Bassanio  ' 
in  the  same  room,)  and  equally  free  from  such  excess  of 
chalky-white  as  is  apparent  in  the  '  Who  can  this  be  ?  ' 
just  over  it.  Attention  should  also  be  directed  to  the 
masterly  perspective  of  the  picture,  both  linear  and 
aerial.  This  is  evidently  a  chamber  to  be  walked  about 
in,  with  room  and  verge  for  the  fair  long  table,  the  guests 
and  servants. 

A  later  '  FalstafT'  may  be  compared  with  this,  in  Mr. 
Harris's  picture  of  the  fat  knight  personating  the  king 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES.  Xxxv 

before  Prince  Hal,  Poins,  Dame  Quickly,  and  the  other 
actors  in  the  scene  at  the  Boar's  Head,  from  '  Henry  the 
Fourth.'  This  picture  was  painted  in  1851,  and,  though 
it  is  surpassed  in  technical  qualities  by  the  Sheepshanks 
picture,  I  prefer  its  Falstaff,  for  conception  and  charac- 
ter, to  the  earlier  one.  No  doubt  Leslie  felt  and  meant 
to  indicate  the  superior  humour  and  raciness  of  Shakes- 
peare's great  creation  in  its  original  form.  Here  Fal- 
staff has  just  assumed  his  cushion-crown  and  his  foot- 
stool-state, and  is  lecturing  the  Prince  who  stands  be- 
fore him  with  a  well-expressed  air  of  mock  respect. 
Francis,  the  lank  drawer,  setting  down  a  pottle  of  sack, 
glances  up  with  the  expression  of  one  who  humbly 
asks  leave  to  enjoy  the  fun,  while  his  mistress,  Dame 
Quickly,  in  full  giggle,  seems  to  say,  '  Oh,  the  Father! 
How  he  keeps  his  countenance.'  Poins  looks  criticiz- 
ingly  on,  leaning  on  one  of  the  joint-stools,  which  we 
may  suppose  he  has  an  itch  to  vault  over,  half-jealous  of 
the  way  the  knight  is  making  as  his  young  master's  tav- 
ern-joker in  ordinary.  But  even  in  this  orgie  Leslie  has 
contrived  to  give  us  a  refreshing  glimpse  of  pure  and 
lovely  nature,  in  the  flowers  strewed  over  the  floor, 
which  he  has  painted  with  most  affectionate  delicacy 
and  faithfulness.  Whole  sheets  of  studies  in  oil  for 
these  flowers  were  among  the  relics  of  the  painter  sold 
at  Foster's  a  few  weeks  ago.  They  must  have  cost  him 
many  a  day's  labour.  But  this  he  never  spared  —  paint- 
ing and  repainting  even  the  minutest  accessories,  till  he 
had  brought  every  detail  in  his  picture  up  to  his  own 
high  standard.  Nor  was  his  labour  done  when  he  had 
painted  such  things  from  nature.  There  was  as  much 
thoughtful  work  afterwards  in  subordinating  and  gener- 
alizing these  studies^  to  suit  their  place,  purpose,  and 
relative  importance  in  his  composition.  In  this  point, 
as  in  so  many  others,  Leslie's  example  is  of  especial 


xxx  vi 


INTRODUCTION. 


value  in  these  days  of  over-emphasized  and  unbalanced 
elaboration.  His  picture  from  <  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew '  I  have  already  noticed.  From  the  <  Winter's 
Tale'  he  painted  two  subjects  —  the  '  Autolycus,'  a  pic- 
ture projected  and  partly  painted  before  1823,  but  not 
exhibited  till  1836  ;  and  the  <  Perdita,'  exhibited  the  fol- 
lowing year.  Both  are  now  in  the  Sheepshanks  collec- 
tion, and  deserve  to  rank  among  the  best  works  of  this 
period.  The  former  represents  the  scene  where  Autoly- 
cus is  puffing  his  pedlar's  wares  among  the  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses  outside  the  old  shepherd's  cote.  The 
knave,  with  his  box  of  trinkets  and  trumpery  about  his 
neck,  is  just  twanging  off  the  title  of  his  wonderful 
ballad  "  of  a  fish  that  appeared  upon  the  coast,  on 
Wednesday  the  four-score  of  April,  fifty  thousand 
fathom  above  water,  and  sung  the  ballad  against  the 
hard  hearts  of  maids."  Mopsa  and  Dorcas  are  scanning 
the  pedlar's  toys  with  greedy  eyes,  while  another  shep- 
herdess listens  entranced  to  the  tale,  "  very  pitiful  and 
as  true,"  and  the  clown,  eager  for  ballads,  bids  the  rogue 
"  lay  it  by."  The  sky  is  a  bright  and  breezy  blue,  with 
white  clouds.  Beyond  is  a  stretch  of  level  mead,  with 
the  far-off  sheep  feeding,  and  to  the  right  of  the  group 
is  the  mountain  ash,  with  its  red  berries,  which  Leslie 
introduced  by  the  advice  of  Constable. 

In  this  picture,  at  least,  the  influence  of  the  last 
named  painter  upon  Leslie  is  seen  under  its  pleasantest 
form  —  in  the  delightful  character  of  summery  open- 
air  freshness  and  breeziness,  which  indeed  it  needed  no 
secondary  influence  to  make  Leslie  feel,  but  in  the  rep- 
resentation of  which  Constable's  counsel  and  example 
powerfully  helped  him.  For  my  own  part,  I  feel  this  to 
be,  on  the  whole,  the  most  cheery  and  '  happy '  work  of 
the  painter.  It  is  free  from  chalkiness,  and  its  colour  is 
bright  and  harmonious.    I  should  have  been  thankful 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxxvii 


for  the  absence  of  the  vermilion  cap  which  Autolycus 
wears ;  but  to  Leslie  no  picture  was  complete  without 
its  vermilion  element,  though  I  think  he  has  seldom 
managed  it  with  the  felicity  which  gives  the  colour  such 
value  in  the  De  Hooghes  and  Terburgs,  from  whose 
practice  he  adopted  it.  Irving  particularly  admired  the 
expression  and  character  of  Autolycus,  and,  as  I  think 
all  who  study  the  picture,  must  admit,  with  good  reason. 
In  the  '  Perdita '  by  its  side,  the  painter  has  not  fallen 
behind  the  exquisite  sentiment  of  Shakespeare's  scene, 
in  which  the  royal  shepherdess  distributes  the  flowers  to 
her  guests.  Perdita  herself,  is  one  of  the  sweetest  and 
most  graceful  creatures  ever  embodied  upon  canvas ; 
and  the  painter  has  never,  as  far  as  I  know,  exceeded 
this  most  graceful  conception  for  loveliness  and  unaf- 
fected charm.  Exception  may  be  taken  to  the  colour 
and  texture  of  the  scarf  over  her  shoulders,  which  looks 
more  like  oiled  silk  than  any  other  material.  Nor  can  I 
admire  the  disguised  Polixenes  and  Camillo ;  nor  does 
the  Florizel  seem  to  me  worthy  of  such  a  Perdita.  Les- 
lie painted  a  Hermione  from  the  same  play  for  Mr. 
Brunei,  but  I  cannot  speak  of  this  picture  from  recent 
examination. 

'  Henry  the  Eighth '  was  another  of  Leslie's  favour- 
ites among  the  historical  plays.  He  has  painted  no 
fewer  than  five  pictures  from  it  —  two  repetitions  of 
Catherine's  dying  scene,  where  through  Capucius  she 
commends  her  daughter  and  her  women  to  the  king: 
and  two  of  the  same  sick  and  dethroned  queen  in  her 
palace  at  Bridewell,  where  she  addresses  one  of  her 
women  — 

"  Take  thy  lute,  wench;  my  soul  grows  sad  with  troubles, 
Sing  and  disperse  them  if  thou  canst." 

The  former  date  in  1850.    Of  the  latter  the  first  was 


xxxviii 


INTRODUCTION. 


Leslie's  diploma  picture  in  1826  :  the  second  was 
painted  in  1842.  There  is  in  all  a  pathos  befitting  their 
incidents.  I  cannot  help  thinking  the  smaller  repetition 
of  the  former  subject,  in  the  collection  of  John  Naylor, 
Esq.,  finer  in  chiaroscuro  and  colour  than  the  original  pic- 
ture painted  for  Mr.  Brunei.  Another  picture  from  the 
same  play  represents  the  moment,  from  the  fourth  scene 
of  the  first  act,  when  Henry  at  the  masque  in  York 
Place  pulls  off  his  vizard  and  makes  himself  known  to 
the  Lord  Cardinal.  A  warm  glow  of  lamplight  is  dif- 
fused over  the  picture.  The  king  —  the  central  figure 
in  the  group  of  masquers  and  ladies,  in  a  tunic  of  gold 
and  scarlet,  leading  fair  Anne  Boleyn  in  his  hand  — 
reveals  himself  to  Wolsey  with  a  laughing  face  and  a 
jovial  rollicking  swing  of  his  brawny  body  —  not  yet 
that  mountain  of  flesh  which  Holbein  painted.  Wol- 
sey comes  forward  from  his  seat  on  the  dais  under  the 
canopy  of  state,  to  "  make  his  royal  choice  "  —  a  wily, 
smooth,  politic  priest,  with  a  subtle  blending  of  inward 
imperiousness  and  outward  respect  in  his  bearing.  But 
the  picture  does  not  rise,  either  in  expression  or  execu- 
tion, beyond  the  second  rank  among  the  painter's  works. 

If  Leslie  ever  painted  a  sweeter  head  than  the  Per- 
dita,  it  is  certainly  the  '  Beatrice,'  running  like  a  lap- 
wing, her  mantilla  thrown  over  her  shining  brown  hUr, 
through  the  sun  and  shade  of  the  pleached  garden  alley, 
to  listen  to  the  gossip  of  Hero  and  Ursula.  No  wonder 
he  was  often  called  on  for  repetitions  of  this  bewitching 
picture.  The  original  is  in  the  gallery  of  Mr.  Gibbons, 
and  I  have  often  wondered  how  it  has  so  long  escaped 
the  graver.  This  is  Beatrice  in  her  arch  natural  loveli- 
ness of  feature  and  mien  —  not  Benedick's  biting,  gib- 
ing, persecutrix.  In  its  sober  yet  sunny  harmony  of  col- 
our the  slightly-painted  garden  background  forms  a  set- 
ting worthy  of  the  sweet  face  and  lovely  stooping  figure. 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xxxix 


'  Twelfth  Night '  supplied  him  with  a  twice-painted 
subject — Sir  Toby  Belch  encouraging  Sir  Andrew 
Aguecheek  to  accost  Olivia's  roguish  maid  Maria. 
The  original  picture  was  painted  in  1842  for  Mr. 
Thomas  Baring :  the  repetition  in  1850  for  Mr.  Edwin 
Bullock.  It  is  hard  to  say  which  is  the  better  picture, 
and  this  is  true  of  several  of  Leslie's  repetitions.  In 
both,  the  Sir  Toby  is  admirable  —  a  better  embodi- 
ment of  Shakespeare's  conception,  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  than  Leslie's  Falstaff.  Probably  the  latter  de- 
fies the  painter  for  the  same  reason  that  he  defies 
the  actor ;  the  character  has  too  many  shades,  too  sub- 
tly blended,  for  complete  realization  either  on  the  boards 
or  on  canvas.  It  is  worth  noting  how  nicely  Leslie 
has  discriminated  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek  and  Slender, 
two  characters  which  on  the  surface  seem  so  like  each 
other.  The  feeble  conceit  and  pretension  of  the  shallow 
Illyrian  knight  are  rendered  with  a  thorough  appreciation, 
which  imparts  an  expression  to  his  face  and  figure  quite 
different  from  that  of  the  sheepish,  but  comparatively 
simple-minded  Windsor  franklin.  The  Maria  is  an  arch 
little  shrew ;  very  different  in  dress  and  feature  in  the 
two  pictures,  but  in  both  true  to  the  character  drawn  by 
Shakespeare.  In  point  of  transparency  and  richness  of 
colour,  especially  in  the  background  —  an  oak  panelled 
room,  with  a  palma-like  portrait  on  the  wall  half  hidden 
by  a  crimson  curtain  —  the  latter  picture  is  the  better  of 
the  two,  but  it  shows  rather  a  greater  tendency  to  that 
blackness  which  was  always  one  of  Leslie's  besetting 
sins,  as  he  was  quite  conscious.  He  twice  painted  the 
subject  of  Olivia  showing  her  face  to  Viola,  from  the 
same  play,  and  a  sketch  for  a  third  version  of  this  inci- 
dent was  on  his  easel  at  the  time  of  his  fatal  attack. 
Mrs.  German  Reed,  when  Miss  Priscilla  Horton,  sat  to 
him  in  Covent  Garden  green-room  in  her  costume  of 


INTRODUCTION. 


Fortunio,  as  a  mode]  for  the  Viola.  But  I  have  not 
seen  the  pictures.  The  sketch  sold  after  his  death  was 
very  sunny  and  brilliant  in  effect. 

From  Milton  Leslie  painted  but  one  subject  —  the 
Lady  in  Comus  with  the  Enchanter  presenting  to  her 
the  Circean  Cup.  His  fresco  from  this  incident  in  the 
summer-house  in  Buckingham  Palace  garden,  though 
cold  and  dry  in  colour,  and  poor  in  the  nude  portions 
of  the  composition,  is  successful,  as  might  have  been 
expected,  in  the  Lady,  its  central  figure,  which  is  purely 
conceived,  chaste  in  expression,  and  graceful  in  action. 

Tristram  Shandy  was  one  of  Leslie's  favourite  books, 
and  has  furnished  the  subject  of  one  of  "his  best  pic- 
tures—  Uncle  Toby  in  the  sentry-box,  innocently  under- 
going the  fire  of  Widow  Wadman  (1851).  Three  ver- 
sions of  this  subject  are  in  the  National  Collection, 
bequeathed  respectively  by  Mr.  Sheepshanks,  Mr.  Ver- 
non, and  Mr.  Jacob  Bell,  and  the  plate  by  Lumb  Stocks 
is  one  of  the  most  popular  engravings  after  Leslie.  As 
usual,  the  three  pictures  vary  in  detail.  In  the  Vernon 
picture,  for  example  —  the  second  painted  —  Uncle  Toby 
wears  a  red  waistcoat,  and  the  widow  has  no  apron, 
while  her  lawn  kerchief  is  thicker  and  more  closely 
pinned  than  in  the  earliest  and  latest  versions,  in  both 
of  which  Uncle  Toby  wears  a  buff  waistcoat,  and  the 
widow  a  lawn  apron  as  well  as  kerchief.  On  the  whole, 
the  Sheepshanks  picture  must  be  pronounced,  I  think, 
the  most  vigorous  in  colour  and  the  most  perfect  in  ex- 
pression ;  but  Uncle  Toby's  hands  are  too  delicate  for 
the  rest  of  his  figure,  and  inferior  to  those  in  either  of 
the  later  pictures.  '  Inimitable  Jack  Bannister,'  one  of 
the  pleasantest  of  actors,  most  genial  of  companions 
and  kindest  of  men,  and  a  genuine  lover  of  Art  into  the 
bargain,  sat  for  the  Uncle  Toby  ;  and  it  would  be  hard 
to  find  a  better  model  for  him.     This  picture  is  per- 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xli 


haps  the  best  illustration  of  Leslie's  perfect  taste.  Any 
painter  with  a  stain  of  impurity  in  his  imagination 
would  have  risked  offence  in  touching  such  a  subject. 
There  is  more  prurience  in  Sterne's  pen  than  in  Leslie's 
pencil.  In  his  hands  the  widow  becomes  so  loveable  a 
person,  that  we  overlook  the  fierceness  of  the  amorous 
siege  she  is  laying  to  Uncle  Toby's  heart ;  while  Uncle 
Toby  himself  is  so  thoroughly  the  gentleman,  —  so  un- 
mistakeably  innocent  and  unsuspecting,  and  single- 
hearted, —  that  the  humour  of  the  situation  seems  filtered 
of  all  its  grossness.  I  like  less  Leslie's  other  picture 
from  Tristram  Shandy,  of  Tristram  discovering  his 
unfortunate  "  remarks  "  twisted  up  into  papillotes  in 
the  hair  of  the  chaise-vamper's  wife  (1833).  He  seems 
to  me  to  have  missed  his  usual  grace  in  the  figure  of 
the  French- woman,  and  the  colouring  appears  to  my 
eye  heavy  and  disagreeable.  Constable,  Leslie  tells  us 
in  one  of  his  letters,  arranged  the  chiaroscuro  of  this 
composition  for  him. 

The  only  picture  which  Leslie  painted  from  Gold- 
smith,—  whom  one  would  have  supposed  likely  to  be 
one  of  his  favourite  authors,  —  is  the  '  Fudge '  scene 
from  the  4  Vicar  of  Wakefield'  (1843),  now  in  the  col- 
lection of  Mr.  Miller  at  Preston.  I  regret  that  I  am 
unable  to  speak  of  this  picture  from  recent  examina- 
tion. 

Fielding  has  furnished  him  with  the  subject  of  one 
of  his  prettiest  small  pictures  —  Tom  Jones  showing 
Sophia  Western  her  own  face  in  the  glass  as  the  best 
security  for  his  own  future  good  behaviour.  The  pic- 
ture was  painted  in  1849,  and  repeated  in  1850  for  Mr. 
John  Harris.  I  only  know  the  latter  ;  but  I  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  believe  that  the  original  Sophia  Western  could 
have  been  lovelier  than  she  is  in  the  repetition.  Besides 
the  exquisite  ladylike  grace  of  the  Sophia,  the  picture 


xlii 


INTRODUCTION. 


is  remarkable  for  the  great  skill  with  which  the  painter 
has  managed  the  light  from  the  windows  between  which 
hangs  the  mirror  reflecting  Sophia's  sweet  face.  This 
is  one  of  many  examples  of  the  profit  to  which  Leslie 
had  put  his  studies  of  De  Hooghe.  Another  is  to  be 
found  in  Mr.  Bicknell's  picture,  '  The  Heiress,'  —  a 
young  lady  just  come  into  a  large  fortune,  and  embar- 
rassed by  the  multiplicity  of  the  correspondence,  and 
the  excessive  kindness  of  the  friends  her  money  has 
brought  upon  her.  Here  the  light  falls  through  tall  red- 
curtained  windows,  throwing  a  mellow  glow  over  the 
furniture  of  the  handsome  room,  in  which  the  graceful 
young  heiress  is  receiving  her  guests  and  dictating  to 
her  amanuensis.  The  effect  was  probably  suggested  by 
a  well-known  evening  piece  of  De  Hooghe's  in  the  col- 
lection of  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

Moliere  was  another  of  the  great  humourists  often 
laid  under  contribution  by  Leslie.  He  painted  three 
times  over  the  scene  of  M.  Jourdain's  discomfiture  in  his 
newly  acquired  art  of  fencing  under  the  vigorous,  inar- 
tistic thrusts  of  his  servant-girl,  to  the  immense  delight 
of  his  shrewish  wife,  who  stands  by.  The  Sheepshanks 
version  of  the  subject  (1841)  is  slight  and  sketchy,  but 
full  of  spirit  in  the  action,  and  of  truthful  indication  in 
the  light  and  shadow.  The  repetition  in  Mr.  Gillott's 
collection  appears  to  me  richer  in  colour  and  more  sol- 
idly painted.  The  Jourdain  in  both  is  perfect  as  a  con- 
ception of  character,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to 
convey  better  the  suddenness  and  irresistible  fury  of 
Nicole's  attack.  She  has  not  even  thought  it  worth 
while  to  lay  aside  her  besom.  The  scene  where  Trisso- 
tin  reads  his  sonnet  to  the  blue-stockings  of  the  Hotel 
Rambouillet  (painted  for  Mr.  Sheepshanks  in  1845)  is  a 
picture  of  far  higher  technical  merit.  Though  as  a 
whole  it  is  disagreeably  chalky  in  texture,  there  is  great 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTUKES. 


xliii 


power  over  the  resources  of  the  art  shown  in  the  way 
the  light  from  the  lustres  is  distributed  over  the  scarlet 
hangings,  and  reflected  in  the  tall  mirror.  Hogarth  him- 
self would  not  have  surpassed  the  action  and  expression 
of  the  reading  pedant,  and  the  die-away  ecstacies  of  his 
lady-audience,  whose  affectation  is  relieved  by  the  sweet 
face  of  Henriette,  one  of  the  most  graceful  of  Leslie's 
many  exquisite  conceptions  of  female  beauty. 

Another  subject  from  Moliere  in  the  Sheepshanks  col- 
lection is  that  scene  of  the  '  Malade  Imaginaire,'  where 
the  unhappy  Argan  is  abandoned  by  his  indignant  phy- 
sician to  all  the  terrors  of  his  own  unaided  constitution. 
I  have  little  doubt  that  Leslie  painted  the  expression  of 
the  pleading  hypochondriac  from  his  own  face.  The 
Toinette  is  peculiarly  successful.  The  picture  was 
painted  in  1843,  but  is  not  one  of  the  pleasantest  of  its 
period  in  colour  or  execution. 

From  the  '  Rape  of  the  Lock '  Leslie  took  one  of  his 
largest  and  most  elaborate  compositions.  The  first  pic- 
ture was  painted  for  Mr.  Gibbons  in  1854.  It  was 
repeated  for  Mr.  Bullock  two  years  later,  with  many 
variations  in  detail.  The  scene  represents  the  moment 
when  Belinda  mourns  over  the  discovery  of  the  ravished 
lock.  She  is  weeping  in  the  foreground  surrounded  by 
a  sympathetic  group  of  ladies.  The  Amazonian  Tha- 
lestris,  in  tricorne  and  riding  habit,  indignant  at  the 
Peer's  boldness,  grasps  her  whip  with  an  evident  long- 
ing to  use  it  over  the  insolent  beau's  shoulders.  In 
the  background  Sir  Plume  is  occupied  on  his  unavailing 
mission,  and  the  Peer  displays  the  captured  lock  in 
triumph.  The  scene  in  which  the  action  passes  was 
painted  from  one  of  the  rooms  in  Hampton  Court  Pal- 
ace, and  most  of  the  details  of  the  furniture  were  from 
Petworth  studies.  Mr.  Millais  stood  for  the  Peer,  and  I 
trace  the  features  of  two  of  the  painter's  daughters  iii 


xliv 


INTRODUCTION. 


the  group  round  the  aggrieved  Belinda.  When  he  re- 
peated the  subject  for  Mr.  Bullock,  he  introduced  por- 
traits of  that  gentleman's  daughter,  in  place  of  his  own. 
As  a  composition  this  is  among  the  best  works  of  Les- 
lie's pencil,  though  there  is  an  unpleasant  predominance 
of  that  chalkiness  in  colour  which  grew  upon  him  dur- 
ing the  last  ten  years  of  his  practice.  The  peer  is  the 
weakest  figure  in  the  composition.  Strange  to  say,  he 
does  not  look  like  a  gentleman  of  the  time  of  Pope, 
but  like  a  modern  gentleman  masquerading.  The  Sir 
Plume  is  as  genuine  as  the  Lord  Petre  is  unreal.  The 
tall  and  commanding  lady  in  the  crimson  sacque,  whose 
back  is  turned  to  the  spectator  in  the  foreground,  is  a 
masterly  example  of  drawing  and  colour,  and  the  pic- 
cure  is  deserving  of  close  study  by  young  artists  for  the 
great  art  shown  in  its  easy,  natural,  and  yet  most  pro- 
foundly calculated  composition.  It  is  a  capital  exam- 
ple, too,  of  Leslie's  admirable  management  of  light  and 
shadow. 

But,  on  the  whole,  I  cannot  but  prefer  to  it,  —  for 
power  in  the  rendering  of  character  and  for  nice  discrim- 
ination of  humorous  expresssion,  —  the  1  Reading  of 
the  Will,'  from  Roderick  Random  (1846),  also  in  Mr. 
Gibbons'  collection.  Here,  though  all  the  figures,  with 
the  exception  of  Lieutenant  Bowling  and  little  Rode- 
rick, are  in  deep  mourning,  so  masterly  has  been  the 
painter's  management  of  colour  and  light  and  shadow, 
that  there  is  no  heaviness  or  monotony  in  the  general 
effect  of  the  picture.  Lieut.  Bowling  was  painted,  I 
believe,  from  an  old  harbour-master  at  Broadstairs,  and 
is  a  capital  conception.  One  of  Mr.  Stanfield's  sons 
sat  for  the  Roderick,  and  one  of  the  painter's  daughters 
for  the  fainting  legacy -hunter,  who  is  upset  by  the  dis- 
covery that  her  name  is  not  among  the  squire's  legatees. 
This  is,  I  think,  the  picture  in  which  Leslie  most  chal- 


ON  LESLIE'S  PICTURES. 


xlv 


lenges  comparison  with  Hogarth,- both  as  a  painter  and 
as  the  teller  of  a  story  ;  and  his  work  bears  the  difficult 
test  bravely.  In  point  of  composition  the  picture  is  as 
deserving  of  study  as  the  '  Rape  of  the  Lock,'  which 
hangs  opposite  to  it. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  say  much  of  Leslie  as  a 
portrait-painter,  though  his  head  of  Archbishop  Howley, 
and  his  full  length  of  Lord  Cottenham,  in  his  Chancel- 
lor's robes,  show  that  he  might  have  taken  a  high  rank 
in  this  branch  of  his  art,  had  he  followed  it.  He  rarely, 
however,  painted  life-size  portraits,  and  in  the  absence 
of  such  evidence  of  his  power  as  only  portraits  on  the 
scale  of  nature  can  supply,  it  may  be  well  not  to  insist 
on  his  claims  in  this  particular  department  of  art.  We 
may  be  certain  he  never  would  have  failed  in  his  render- 
ing of  character.  I  have  not  seen  his  picture  of  £  Lady 
Jane  Grey  refusing  the  Crown,'  but  the  engraving  sug- 
gests an  effect  of  colour  which  shows  the  influence  of 
another  of  his  favourite  masters,  Paul  Veronese.  I  re- 
member the  delight  which  I  experienced  before  his  little 
picture  of  the  same  gentle  lady  found  by  Roger  Ascham 
sitting  over  Plato  in  the  oriel,  while  the  chase  sweeps 
on  without.  But  I  have  not  seen  the  picture  (which 
is  in  Mr.  Miller's  fine  collection  at  Preston)  since  it  was 
exhibited  in  1848.  I  can  recall  its  silvery  summer  light, 
the  serene  sweet  face  and  slender  figure,  and  the  glimpse 
of  the  green  park,  with  its  swelling  uplands  and  stately 
trees  —  a  reminiscence  of  Petworth.  There  is  another 
pathetic  little  historical  picture  at  Kensington,  of  the 
Infant  Princes  at  their  prayers,  in  their  dark  Tower  bed- 
chamber, on  the  night  of  their  murder.  The  subject  is 
taken  from  an  affecting  scene  in  Heywood's  tragedy  of 
'  Edward  the  Fourth,'  and  was  twice  painted  by  Les- 
lie. Of  his  Court  pictures  —  the  4  Coronation,'  and  the 
r  Christening  of  the  Princess  Royal '  —  I  will  only  say 


xlvi 


INTRODUCTION. 


that  he  appears  to  have  encountered  the  difficulties  of 
the  subjects  boldly,  and  to  have  vanquished  as  many 
of  them  as  a  painter  of  such  scenes  in  this  age  can  be 
expected  to  do.  To  make  courtly  ceremonials  effective 
incidents  for  the  pencil,  there  needs,  at  once,  in  the 
painter  a  kindred  power  to  that  of  Veronese  and  Titian, 
and  in  the  subject  something  of  that  splendour  of  pag- 
eantry and  glory  of  costume  which  embellished  mediae- 
val life.  Jn  our  day  it  is  hardly  possible  to  keep  down 
the  most  fatal  suggestions  of  the  upholsterer  and  the 
milliner.  But,  even  if  the  difficulty  had  been  less,  Les- 
lie was  not  a  decorative  painter.  He  was  unaccustomed 
to  the  scale  demanded  by  such  subjects,  and  had  noth- 
ing of  the  splendour  of  colouring  which  can  invest  with 
a  charm  even  the  fittings  of  Banting  and  Gillow,  or  the 
inventions  of  the  Court  modiste  and  plumassier.  Leslie 
succeeded  admirably  in  the  portrait  portion  of  these  dif- 
ficult pictures.  The  group  of  attendant  ladies  in  the 
coronation  picture,  especially,  is  painted  with  an  intense 
sentiment  of  that  grace  and  beauty  which  the  subject 
supplied,  and  the  painter  was  peculiarly  qualified  to 
reproduce.  Again,  the  passages  in  either  picture  which 
most  appeal  to  the  heart,  are  painted  with  true  feeling  ; 
as,  for  example,  the  Maiden  Queen,  kneeling  with  bared 
and  bowed  head  at  the  altar  under  the  heavy  burden 
of  her  coronation  robes,  while  the  sunbeams  shed  their 
glory  upon  her,  like  the  blessing  of  heaven  made  vis- 
ible ;  or  the  crowned  young  mother's  look,  as  she  turns 
to  her  first-born  with  that  yearning  which  makes  all 
women  kin. 

I  have  spoken  elsewhere  of  Leslie's  pictures  from 
sacred  subjects,  and  from  those  domestic  incidents,  such 
as  furnish  the  subjects  of  <  The  Shell,'  and  £  The  First 
Lesson,'  in  the  treatment  of  which  the  painter  was  so 
peculiarly  happy. 


LESLIE  AS  AN  AKTIST. 


xlvii 


My  narrowing  space  warns  me  to  draw  this  introduc- 
tion to  a  close,  but  before  I  retire  to  let  Leslie  speak  for 
himself,  I  am  tempted  to  close  these  desultory  notices  of 
particular  pictures  by  some  general  remarks  on  the  quali- 
ties of  the  painter,  and  on  his  place  among  the  artists  of 
this  country  and  time. 


GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  LESLIE 
AS  AN  ARTIST. 

In  passing  from  the  consideration  of  particular  pic- 
tures of  Leslie's  to  his  general  characteristics  as  a 
painter,  I  feel  distrustful  of  my  own  judgment.  Mem- 
ory of  the  delight  which  his  exhibited  pictures  have 
afforded  me  year  after  year  makes  me  shrink  from  the 
attempt  to  analyze  the  sources  of  my  gratification.  I 
feel  too  grateful  to  the  man  who  has  given  his  genera- 
tion so  much  refined  and  innocent  pleasure,  to  be  dis- 
posed to  scan  the  "  why  "  and  the  "  how  "  of  his  work- 
ing, or  to  be  sure  how  much  of  what  I  write  is  present 
judgment,  how  much  recollected  enjoyment.  In  almost 
all  that  Leslie  attempted  he  appears  to  me  to  have  suc- 
ceeded in  a  rare  degree.  Few  painters  have  better  known 
the  range  of  their  own  powers,  or  more  honestly  fol- 
lowed the  guidance  of  their  real  tastes  and  feelings.  But 
most,  even  of  his  warmest  admirers,  will  probably  agree 
with  me  in  the  opinion,  that  he  has  satisfied  us  least  in 
the  few  subjects  he  has  painted  from  Holy  Writ.  Not 
that  he  wanted  reverence,  or  earnestness,  or  elevation  of 
sentiment,  for  such  themes.  But  in  the  treatment  of 
them  we  have  been  accustomed  to  look  either  for  such 
epic  largeness  and  simplicity  of  handling  as  they  have 
received  from  the  greatest  Italians,  or  for  that  vivid  nat- 


xlviii  INTRODUCTION. 

uraiism  and  local  colour  with  which  Wilkie  dreamed  of 
investing  the  incidents  of  Biblical  life,  and  which  Ver- 
net  in  France,  and  Mr.  H.  Holman  Hunt  and  others  at 
home,  have  actually  applied  to  it.  Leslie,  by  his  prac- 
tice as  a  painter  of  cabinet  pictures,  was  unfitted  for  the 
one  mode  of  treatment,  while  his  ignorance  of  Eastern 
life  and  nature,  if  nothing  else,  debarred  him  from  the 
other.  But  even  among  these  subjects  there  are  homely 
and  domestic  incidents  which  Leslie  was  quite  fitted 
to  make  both  lovely  and  impressive,  as  I  think  he  has 
proved  by  his  Martha  and  Mary,  painted  originally  in 
1847.  A  third  repetition  of  this  subject  was  among 
the  pictures  left  unfinished  at  his  death. 

But  Leslie  had  no  vocation  for  what  may  be  called 
epic  painting,  or,  indeed,  for  any  form  of  painting  cal- 
culated by  scale  and  style  to  speak  to  numbers.  He 
seems,  from  passages  in  his  writings,  to  have  underval- 
ued all  that  class  of  work  which  he  considered  as  merely 
subsidiary  to  architecture,  but  which  ought  rather  to  be 
estimated  as  originally  Bible  record,  legend,  or  history, 
put  into  pictures  for  the  sake  of  those  who  had  no 
books,  and  afterwards  in  the  stateliest  form  of  decora- 
tion. He  had  no  ambition  to  adorn  public  halls,  or  to 
cover  the  walls  of  churches.  He  no  doubt  thought  that 
the  time  for  giving  instruction  or  information  through 
pictures  has  passed  away,  while  stately  decoration  is  in- 
appropriate to  our  social  life  and  usages  —  in  this  coun- 
try, at  least  —  and  that  painting  now-a-days  cannot  use- 
fully aspire  to  any  higher  functions  than  those  of  pleas- 
ing and  refining.  And  of  all  the  ways  in  which  the 
painter  can  impart  pleasure  or  promote  culture,  there 
was  evidently  none  which  Leslie  valued  so  highly  as 
his  power  to  enhance  our  relish  for  good  books,  and  to 
enlarge  our  enjoyment  of  out-door  nature.  He  wrought 
in  the  one  field  himself:  he  thoroughly  and  generously 


LESLIE  AS  AN  AKTIST. 


xlix 


appreciated  those  who  laboured  honestly  and  lovingly 
in  the  other.  His  own  art  was  eminently  literary.  But 
he  not  the  less  passionately  admired  Constable's  pictures 
for  their  single-hearted  reproduction  of  the  skies  and 
streams,  the  downs  and  meadows,  about  Dedham  and 
East  Bergholt. 

Both  in  his  appreciation  of  art  and  literature,  Leslie 
was  eminently  catholic,  and  in  the  main  sound  of  judg- 
ment. His  lectures  testify  to  the  comprehensiveness  of 
his  artistic  canons,  while  how  keenly  and  genuinely  he 
loved  books  is  evident  in  his  choice  of  subjects  from  first 
to  last.  When  we  recall  his  pictures,  it  is  in  connection 
with  Shakespeare,  Cervantes,  and  Le  Sage,  Moliere, 
Addison,  Sterne,  Fielding,  and  Smollett.  These  were 
the  books  his  father  loved,  and  on  such  strong  and  nutri- 
tious literary  food  young  Leslie  was  reared.  He  first 
attracted  notice  by  his  '  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  going  to 
Church  '  (1819).  '  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  in  Church  ' 
(1857),*  was  the  last  picture  from  his  hand  which  re- 
tained any  strong  impress  of  that  which  most  charmed 
us  in  him.  He  has  left  few  works  in  which  subject,  as 
well  as  embodiment,  is  of  his  own  imagining.  His 
'  Mayday,'  the  <  Mother  and  Child,'  the  <  Who  can  this 
be  ?  '  and  '  Who  can  this  be  from  ?  '  are  the  best  exam- 
ples of  such  pictures.  But  as  an  illustrator  and  pic- 
torial embodier  of  other  men's  conceptions,  he  ranks 
among  the  first  —  if  not  as  the  very  first  —  of  English 
painters.  So  entirely  true  and  subtle  is  his  rendering 
of  character  and  expression,  so  fine  his  appreciation  of 
his  author's  sentiment,  so  hearty  his  relish  for  the  sub- 
ject in  hand,  that  his  pictures  seem  to  me  quite  to 
escape  the  charge  so  justly  brought  against  most  pic- 
tures taken  from  books,  that  they  weaken  instead  of 
strengthen  our  conception  and  enjoyment  of  the  scene 

*  In  the  Collection  of  Mrs.  Miller,  at  Preston. 
d 


1 


INTRODUCTION. 


represented.  What  painter  has  entered  so  completely 
as  Leslie  into  the  mind  of  Shakespeare  and  Cervantes, 
of  Moliere  and  Addison  ?  His  Sancho  seems  to  me 
absolutely  to  satisfy  one's  conception  of  the  burly 
squire.  I  should  say  the  same  of  his  Autolycus  and 
Perdita ;  his  Beatrice  and  his  Catherine  ;  his  Uncle  To- 
by and  the  Widow  Wadman  ;  his  Trissotin  and  Mon- 
sieur Jourdain  ;  and  all  those  saucy,  sprightly  suivantes 
of  Moliere's  comedies  —  the  Nicoles  and  Toinettes,  and 
Mariannes.  In  his  choice  of  subjects  from  his  favourite 
authors,  I  fancy  one  may  trace  the  same  hearty  and 
intimate  appreciation.  He  does  not  pick  out  his  inci- 
dents, only  or  mainly,  because  they  admit  of  picturesque 
costume,  effective  grouping,  or  stirring  and  varied  ac- 
tion, but  because  they  reflect  the  inner  and  more  subtle 
sentiment  of  the  play  or  novel,  or  poem  which  furnishes 
them.  It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  our  liking  and 
appreciation  of  the  Duchess  in  Don  Quixote  must  be 
permanently  heightened  after  we  have  learned  to  enjoy 
her  high-bred  humour  and  courteous  grace  from  Leslie's 
picture  of  her;  after  we  have  caught  that  radiant  but 
restrained  half  smile,  so  exquisitely  contrasted  with  the 
broad  and  boisterous  merriment  of  the  attendants  —  the 
mulatto  girl  above  all  —  and  the  bilious  contempt  on 
the  starched,  vinegar  face  of  the  Duenna.  So,  I  think, 
we  must  all  acknowledge  an  enhanced  sense  of  the 
humour  of  Uncle  Toby's  dangerous  tete-a-tete  with  the 
Widow  Wadman  in  the  sentry-box,  after  studying  the 
two  in  Leslie's  picture  of  that  critical  situation. 

In  selecting  the  most  salient  merits  of  this  painter,  I 
am  only  echoing  the  general  verdict  when  I  pitch  first 
upon  his  power  of  rendering  character,  particularly  of 
the  humorous  kind.  But  this  power  was  thoroughly 
under  the  guidance  of  that  chastening  good  taste  which 
can  treat  even  coarse  subjects  without  vulgarity,  and 


LESLIE  AS  AN  ARTIST. 


li 


make  otherwise  odious  incidents  tolerable  by  redeeming 
glimpses  of  humanity  and  good  feeling.  In  his  "  Read- 
ing of  the  Will,"  from  Roderick  Random  (1846),  I  would 
note,  in  illustration  of  the  latter  characteristic,  the  real 
grief  of  the  little  girl  at  the  window  —  the  one  person- 
age in  that  assembly  of  sharking  fortune-hunters  who  is 
thinking  of  the  dead  with  regret.  She  is  unnoticed  by 
the  rest  of  the  characters,  and  might  easily  escape  obser- 
vation, so  unobtrusively  is  she  introduced.  But  once 
seen,  she  leavens  the  whole  scene  with  that  salt  of  hu- 
man kindness,  which  without  her  would  be  wanting, 
even  in  presence  of  the  bluff  honesty  of  Lieutenant 
Bowling,  and  the  innocent  unconcern  of  little  Roderick. 
There  are  few  of  the  painter's  pictures  in  which  he  does 
not  contrive  to  introduce  some  such  touch,  to  make  us 
love  him,  and  feel  kindly  towards  our  kind. 

Another  charm  in  Leslie's  work  is  the  inborn  and 
genuine  —  if  often  homely  —  beauty  and  grace  of  his 
women.  Speaking  from  my  own  feeling,  I  should  find 
it  difficult  to  parallel,  for  this  quality,  his  Perdita  in  the 
Sheepshanks  picture,  or  his  Beatrice  in  the  Gibbons  col- 
lection. But  all  his  women,  even  the  humblest,  have  as 
much  beauty  as  is  compatible  with  their  class,  charac- 
ter, and  occupation.  This  beauty  never  degenerates  into 
the  meretricious  or  the  tawdry.  It  is  eminently  the  real 
and  work-day  charm  of  human  flesh  and  blood,  whether 
it  be  refined  and  high-bred  as  in  the  Duchess  or  the  la- 
dies of  the  "  Rape  of  the  Lock ; "  or  simple  and  naive 
as  in  the  Perdita ;  or  rustic  and  blowsy  as  in  the  Mopsa 
and  Dorcas;  or  ripe,  melting,  and  provocative  as  in  the 
Widow  Wadman.  Closely  akin  to  this  sentiment  of 
genuine  womanly  loveliness,  is  Leslie's  intense  feeling 
for  the  domesticities.  No  mother,  I  should  think,  can 
see  that  little  picture  of  his,*  in  which  a  lovely  young 

*In  the  Collection  of  Mrs.  Gibbons,  Regent's  Park. 


lii 


INTRODUCTION. 


woman  nestles  her  face  in  the  chubby  neck  of  the  crow- 
ing baby  on  her  knee,  without  a  thrill  of  maternal  love 
at  her  heart.  But  whatever  he  has  done  in  this  way  is 
free  from  all  mawkishness.  There  is  no  trading  in  the 
"  deep  domestic,"  as  a  good  saleable  article  for  the  mar- 
ket. In  this,  as  in  all  he  did,  good  taste  has  chastened 
and  checked  Leslie's  pencil.  His  lectures  show  how  . 
highly  he  valued  this  guiding  and  restraining  faculty, 
and  his  pictures  throughout  supply  the  best  illustra- 
tions I  know  of  the  faculty  in  operation. 

How  genuine  all  these  qualities  were  in  Leslie  is  best 
shown  by  his  life  and  by  his  character,  as  indicated  in 
his  conversation  and  his  writing.  How  could  he  be 
other  than  truthful,  lovely,  charitable,  and  tasteful  in 
his  pictures,  who  in  his  home  as  in  society,  in  his 
teaching  as  in  his  conduct,  was  habitually  sincere,  affec- 
tionate, equable,  thoughtful  of  others,  tolerant,  loving  to 
dwell  rather  on  the  good  than  on  the  bad  about  him  ? 
It  would  be  well  if  there  were  more  lives  that  should 
show  so  exact  a  parallel  of  good  attributes  in  the  work- 
man and  his  works. 

In  going  through  Leslie's  recollections  and  correspon- 
dence, I  have  found  myself  often  drawn  to  a  compari- 
son of  him  as  a  painter  with  his  friend  Washington 
Irving  as  a  writer.  I  trace  a  good  many  points  of  re- 
semblance between  them,  as  in  the  hearty  love  of  both 
for  the  nearer  past  of  English  life  and  manners ;  their 
unaffected  sensibility  to  the  graceful  and  refined  in  wo- 
man, and  tb  the  domestic  affections ;  their  genial  relish 
for  the  humourous  in  character,  with  a  not  unkindred 
appreciation  of  the  pathetic  ;  their  genuine  Anglicism 
of  sentiment  and  spirit — Americans  as  both  were  by 
blood  :  and  lastly,  their  ever-present  good  taste  in  treat- 
ing every  subject  they  took  in  hand.  It  may  seem  not 
a  very  high  place  in  art  to  claim  for  Leslie,  which  sets 


LESLIE  AS  AN  ARTIST. 


til) 


him  on  a  level  with  Washington  Irving  in  literature. 
But  Leslie  loved  Irving  so  well  and  admired  his  work 
so  heartily,  that  I  am  sure  Leslie  would  not  complain 
of  the  parallel. 

I  am  very  imperfectly  qualified  to  pronounce  on  the 
technical  merits  and  demerits  of  Leslie  as  a  painter.  I 
venture  what  I  say  on  this  point  subject  to  the 'correc- 
tion of  better  informed  judges.  It  is  evident  from  his 
works,  as  well  as  from  what  his  letters  tell  us  about 
them,  that  he  wrought  his  way  in  his  art  slowly  and  la- 
boriously. His  taste,  he  tells  us,  was  long  in  forming. 
He  honestly  confesses  there  was  a  time  when  he  thought 
West  equal  to  Raffaelle,  and  when  he  was  insensible  to 
the  glory  of  Venetian  colour  ;  and  though  by  diligent 
cultivation  he  tutored  his  mind  and  eye  to  juster  appre- 
ciation, it  seems  to  me  clear  from  his  works  that  he  had 
not  by  nature  the  gift  of  colour,  and  never  quite  made 
up  for  this  want  by  self-culture.  The  colour  of  his  ear- 
lier works  is  mellower  and  richer  than  that  of  his  later 
ones.  Failing  sight  may  have  had  something  to  do 
with  this,  as  well  as  the  influence  of  Constable ;  but  it 
may,  also,  be  partly  due  to  a  natural  relaxation  of  effort 
after  alien  perfections  in  one  who  had  succeeded  in  win- 
ning public  favor  by  the  qualities  which  were  natural 
to  him.  From  about  1819  to  1838 — judging  from  the 
pictures  I  have  had  opportunities  of  examining  —  Les- 
lie seems  to  me  to  have  been  at  his  best  as  a  colourist. 
His  pictures  painted  after  1838,  exhibit  an  increasing 
tendency  to  opacity  and  chalkiness,  though  he  ever  and 
anon  escapes  from  these  besetting  sins,  and,  as  in  his 
Beatrice  (1850),  paints  a  head  as  perfect  in  the  softness 
of  its  texture,  and  the  pearliness  of  its  tone,  as  the  most 
exacting  critic  could  require. 

But  making  every  allowance  for  such  occasional 
felicities,  I  fear  it  must  be  admitted  that  Leslie  was  not 
d* 


liv 


INTRODUCTION. 


a  great  colourist,  at  least  if  one  considers  the  quality 
of  his  tints  in  themselves,  rather  than  the  choice  and 
arrangement  of  them  in  combination.  This  was  not 
for  want  of  honest  effort,  for  no  man  ever  laboured 
more  strenuously,  by  observation  and  practice,  to  repro- 
duce the  true  effects  of  light,  or  knew  better  what  these 
ought  to  be,  or  more  enjoyed  them  in  the  works  of  other 
masters.  De  Hooghe,  Maas,  and  the  Flemish  school 
generally,  were  his  especial  favourites  for  their  mastery 
in  this  respect,  above  all  others. 

And  if  Leslie's  pictures  lack  the  peculiar  charm  of 
colour,  so  they  are  not  marked  by  any  special  dexterity 
of  manipulation.  There  is  none  of  what  Hazlitt  called 
"the  sword  play"  of  the  pencil  about  them.  But  against 
their  technical  defects  we  must,  I  think,  set  off  a  rare 
feeling  for  so  much  of  atmospheric  effect  as  is  indepen- 
dent of  positive  colour.  Leslie's  pictures  are  full  of  air ; 
we  can  breathe  in  them  and  walk  about  among  his 
groups,  and  retire  into  his  distances. 

Of  composition  he  seems  to  me  a  master ;  quite  as 
happy  in  the  disposition  of  his  personages,  and- in  their 
combination  with  the  still  life  of  his  scene,  as  in  the  ren- 
dering of  character  by  face  and  action.  As  a  draughts- 
man, too,  his  merit  is,  unquestionably,  of  a  very  high 
order. 

Very  few  painters  have  made  so  good  a  use  of  the 
model  —  getting  reality  and  life  from  the  living  sitter, 
without  any  sacrifice  of  the  ideal  intention  of  the 
painter.  His  pictures,  thanks  to  the  thoroughness  with 
which  the  conception  is  thought  out,  are  quite  free  from 
all  suggestion  of  the  masquerade  warehouse,  or  the  old 
furniture  shop.  He  is  a  thorough  master  of  perspective, 
and  has  seldom  been  exceeded  in  the  taste  with  which 
he  selects  his  accessories,  and  the  well  considered  degree 
of  finish  with  which  he  paints  them.    In  this,  as  in  his 


LESLIE  AS  AN  ARTIST. 


Iv 


conceptions  of  incident  and  character,  guiding  good  taste 
is  everywhere  apparent. 

In  the  gradation  of  their  finish,  above  all,  Leslie's 
pictures  should  supply  valuable  lessons  to  the  young 
painter  of  the  present  day.  They  will  help  to  correct 
that  prevailing  tendency  to  elaborate  everything  to  the 
utlnost  of  the  painter's  power,  in  disregard  of  the  law 
that  such  equality  of  elaboration  may  be  fitted  for  stud- 
ies of  parts,  but  can  never  be  compatible  with  the  con- 
ditions of  a  picture  regarded  as  a  whole. 

Leslie's  choice  of  materials  and  his  mode  of  work,  as 
finally  settled,  were  of  that  honest  kind  which  postpones 
immediate  effect  to  permanence,  and  resists  with  rare 
firmness  the  temptations  of  the  exhibition  room.  There 
is  no  fear  of  his  pictures  falling  into  ruin  from  his  resort 
to  ill  considered  or  reckless  means  of  immediate  effect. 
His  method  of  painting,  as  it  appears  from  the  descrip- 
tion of  it  already  given,  was  eminently  solid,  simple,  and 
straightforward. 

Leslie's  pictures  must,  I  apprehend,  be  classed  among 
those,  works  of  which  the  expressional  qualities  will  al- 
ways in  popular  estimation  overbear  the  technical  ones, 
and  in  a  great  measure  render  all  but  artists  indifferent 
to  the  latter.  Had  he  but  united  the  power  of  colour 
and  the  chiaroscuro  of  the  Flemish  school  to  his  own  fine 
humour,  refinement,  and  appreciation  of  the  resources 
of  art,  Leslie  would  have  taken  a  place  which  still  re- 
mains for  his  successors  to  fill  up  in  the  hierarchy  of 
painting. 

In  the  technical  qualities,  however,  most  essential  to 
the  rendering  of  expression,  Leslie's  art,  for  most  of  us, 
leaves  little  to  desire. 

I  feel  confident  that  when  the  pictorial  art  of  our 
time  comes  to  be  compared  with  that  which  preceded 
and  that  which  will  follow  it,  Leslie's  name  must  stand 


Ivi 


INTRODUCTION. 


honoured,  for  the  prevailing  presence  in  his  works  of 
good  taste,  truth,  character,  humour,  grace,  and  kindli- 
ness, and  for  the  entire  absence  of  that  vulgarity,  bra- 
vado, self-seeking,  trick,  and  excess,  which  are  by  no 
means  inseparable  from  great  attainments  in  painting, 
and  which  the  conditions  of  modern  art  are  but  too  apt 
to  engender  and  to  foster. 

If  I  have  succeeded  in  my  earnest  attempt  to  supply 
that  information  about  the  painter's  works,  and  that  es- 
timate of  their  qualities,  which  his  native  modesty  has 
restrained  him  from  incorporating  with  his  own  autobio- 
graphical recollections,  I  shall  feel  that  I  have  paid  off  a 
little  of  the  great  debt  of  enjoyment  I  owe  to  this 
charming  painter,  and  most  excellent  man. 


4 

LESLIE  AS  A  WRITER  ON  ART. 


A.MONG  writers  on  art,  I  should  give  Leslie  a  high 
place,  for  the  sound  sense  which  guides  his  judgment, 
the  taste  which  governs  his  criticism,  and  the  freedom 
from  one-sidedness  shown  in  his  "  Handbook  for  Young 
Painters,"  as  he  modestly  called  the  work  into  which  he 
re-cast  the  lectures  delivered  by  him  as  Professor  of 
Painting  in  the  Royal  Academy.  There  is  a  great  deal 
in  this  treatise  that  many  old  painters  may  profitably 
study  and  take  to  heart.  The  book  is  anything  but  am- 
bitious in  its  scope  or  in  its  style  of  handling  the  sub- 
ject. There  is  no  attempt  at  systematising,  and  no  pre- 
tension to  exhaustion  of  its  theme.  It  is  rather  a  col- 
lection of  well-weighed  observations  on  the  heads  of 
its  several  sections,  which  deal,  in  succession,  with  the 
imitation  of  nature  and  style ;  the  imitation  of  art ;  the 


LESLIE  AS  A  WRITER  ON  ART. 


MI 


distinction  between  laws  and  rules ;  classification  ;  self- 
teaching  ;  genius,  imagination,  and  taste ;  the  ideal  and 
beauty  of  form ;  drawing ;  invention  and  expression ; 
composition ;  colour  and  chiaroscuro,  the  cartoons  of 
Raphael ;  the  Flemish  and  Dutch  painters  of  the  seven- 
teenth century;  landscape  and  portraits. 

It  seems  to  me  that  there  has  been  hardly  any  book 
written  on  the  theory  of  painting  which  enunciates  a 
larger  proportion  of  sound  principles,  for  its  bulk,  or  one 
more  likely  to  guide  the  student  safely,  so  far  as  it  at- 
tempts to  guide  him. 

Were  I  to  select  for  exception  conclusions  or  opinions 
from  this  treatise,  they  would  be  those  which  the  author 
puts  forward  as  to  decorative  painting,  in  connection 
with  architecture,  on  which  subject  Leslie  wrote  in  ig- 
norance of  the  finest  examples  in  this  kind,  which  Italy 
alone  supplies.  I  think,  too,  that  Leslie  undervalued 
both  the  historical  importance  and  the  expressional 
qualities  of  early  art ;  and  that  this  under-estimate  has 
misled  the  author  in  his  criticism  of  the  principles  that 
should  guide  the  selection  of  pictures  for  our  National 
Gallery. 

Among  examples  of  artist  biography,  Leslie's  "  Life 
of  Constable"  deserves,  I  think,  to  rank  as  a  model. 
Affection  for  his  subject  may  have  had  as  much  to 
do  in  guiding  Leslie  through  this  task,  as  any  theory 
of  editorial  duties.  But  to  whatever  cause  we  are  to 
ascribe  the  result,  I  know  of  no  more  striking  example 
of  perfect  good  taste  than  Leslie's  part  in  this  book.  It 
seems  to  me  difficult  to  praise  too  highly  the  subordina- 
tion, all  through,  of  the  editor  to  his  subject;  his  indus- 
try in  research ;  his  arrangement ;  the  skill  with  which  he 
has  left  the  subject  of  the  biography  to  tell  his  own 
story  in  letters  judiciously  chosen  and  carefully  linked 
by  brief  explanatory  statements  ;  the  simple  earnestness 


Iviii 


INTRODUCTION. 


with  which  the  editor  has  conveyed  his  admiration  and 
affection  for  the  subject  of  his  memoir,  till  he  creates  a 
Kindred  feeling  in  those  who  read  what  he  has  written. 
It  may  be  the  consciousness  of  my  own  difficulties  and 
shortcomings  in  attempts  of  the  same  kind,  that  makes 
me  so  sensible  of  Leslie's  editorial  merits. 

The  good  taste  and  good  feeling  so  conspicuous  in 
his  "  Life  of  Constable,"  are  equally  apparent,  I  think, 
in  the  Autobiography,  from  which  I  have  but  too  long 
detained  the  reader. 


AUTOBIOGEAPHY 

OP 

CHARLES  ROBERT  LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Voyage  to  America  —  Engagement  at  sea  —  French  ship  vanquished  —  Youth- 
ful bravery  —  The  Newfoundland  dog  —  Residence  at  Lisbon —  Departure 
from  Lisbon  —  Arrival  at  Philadelphia. 

In  looking  back  on  the  opportunities  my  profession  has  given 
me  of  knowing  many  persons  whose  names  will  outlive  the  pres- 
ent age,  I  cannot  doubt  that  much  which  has  interested  me  will 
be  read  with  interest  by  others.  Without  the  hope  that  I  can  do 
justice,  in  my  relation,  to  what  I  have  seen  and  heard,  I  am  yet 
tempted  to  commit  to  paper  those  of  my  recollections  on  which 
I  dwell  with  the  most  interest,  and  to  connect  with  them  some 
account  of  my  life. 

My  father,  Robert  Leslie,  and  my  mother,  Lydia  Baker,  were 
Americans,  natives  of  Cecil  county  in  the  state  of  Maryland. 
Their  forefathers  had  settled  in  that  neighbourhood  early  in  the 
last  century  as  farmers ;  my  father's  ancestors  being  from  Scot- 
land, and  my  mother's  from  England. 

My  father  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  ingenuity  in  mechanics. 
He  settled  in  Philadelphia  in  the  year  1786,  as  a  clock  and 
watchmaker,  having  previously  pursued  that  business  at  Elktown. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  Philosophical  Society,  and  was  known 
and  respected  by  some  of  the  most  eminent  scientific  men  in 
America,  among  whom  I  well  recollect  Latrobe,  the  architect  of 
the  Capitol  at  Washington.  His  business  having  become  pros- 
perous, he  determined  to  extend  it  by  taking  a  partner  in  Phila- 
1 


2 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  I. 


delphia,  and  by  going  himself  to  London  to  purchase  the  clocks 
and  watches  wanted  for  the  establishment.  This  he  did  about 
the  year  1793.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  family,  which  con- 
sisted of  my  mother  and  three  young  children  (girls),  and  his 
sister,  Margaret  Leslie. 

I  was  born  in  London  on  the  19th  October,  1794,  and  my  first 
recollections  are  of  our  living  in  a  house  in  Portman  Place,  Edge- 
ware  Road,  two  doors  from  that  which  I  occupied  after  an  inter- 
val of  thirty  years.  My  brother,  the  youngest  of  my  father's 
children,  and  about  two  years  younger  than  myself,  was  also 
born  in  London.  On  the  death  of  my  father's  partner,  Mr. 
Price,  he  returned  to  America  with  his  family. 

Our  voyage  was  a  remarkable  one ;  and,  as  my  father  kept  a 
journal,  and  as  I  have  been  favoured,  within  these  few  years, 
with  a  sight  of  another  kept  by  one  of  our  fellow  passengers,  Mr. 
Lawrence  Greatrakes,  I  am  enabled  to  give  some  account  of  the 
principal  events  of  it. 

We  sailed,  on  the  18th  September,  1799,  from  Gravesend,  in 
the  ship  Washington,  875  tons  burthen,  carrying  sixteen  24- 
pounders  (carronades),  six  long  twelves,  and  two  6-pounders. 
She  was  an  English-built  East  Indiaman,  but  when  we  sailed  in 
her  she  was  in  the  American  merchant  service,  and  armed  in 
consequence  of  the  war  between  the  United  States  and  France. 
She  had  a  complement  of  sixty-two  men  and  boys,  and  was 
commanded  by  Captain  James  Williamson,  a  Scotchman.  Mr. 
Greatrakes  remarks,  that  "  Perhaps  few  instances  ever  occurred 
of  a  vessel  suffering  greater  difficulties,  and  not  being  lost,  in 
endeavouring  to  beat  out  of  the  Channel."  And  my  father  says : 
"  We  were  only  just  clear  of  the  land  when  we  had  been  thirty- 
four  days  on  board. 

"  On  the  23rd  October  we  passed  through  an  English  fleet 
from  the  Mediterranean,  and  were  brought  to  by  the  largest  of 
the  ships  —  the  Majestic,  74.  The  gun  she  fired  as  a  signal  had. 
by  the  carelessness  of  the  gunner,  a  ball  in  it,  which  came  on 
board  of  us,  and,  passing  very  near  the  heads  of  two  of  our  pas- 
sengers, sunk  into  a  spar  on  the  deck. 

"  On  Thursday,  the  24th,"  continues  my  father,  "  we  were 
called  up  by  the  mate  and  gunner,  who  informed  us  that  there 


CHAP.  I.] 


VOYAGE  TO  AMERICA. 


3 


was  a  French  ship  in  sight,  and  that  we  must  prepare  for  an 
engagement.  As  soon  as  I  got  on  deck,  the  captain  requested 
me  to  get  Mrs.  Leslie  and  the  children  up  and  dressed,  as  he 
wished  to  have  them  ready  to  go  below  at  a  minute's  warning. 
We  were  steering  west,  with  the  wind  right  aft,  and  the  French- 
man following  us  at  the  distance  of  about  four  miles.  It  was,  no 
doubt,  a  ship  we  had  seen  the  evening  before,  dogging  the  fleet 
we  had  passed  through,  probably  in  the  hope  of  cutting  one  or 
two  of  them  off.  He  did  not  seem  to  be  gaining  on  us,  so  that,  at 
eight,  we  had  breakfast  as  usual,  soon  after  which  we  found  that 
our  enemy  could  keep  up  with  us  with  less  sail  than  we  had,  by 
which  it  was  evident  he  could  overtake  us  if  he  pleased.  Our 
captain  determined,  therefore,  to  slacken  sail,  and  have  our  fate 
decided  while  we  had  the  day  before  us." 

Mr.  Greatrakes  says :  "  The  orders  to  clear  for  action  were 
productive  of  some  droll  scenes.  Great  was  the  confusion  pro- 
duced among  the  passengers  —  some  half-asleep,  some  only  half- 
dressed,  running  every  way  but  the  right  one,  and  carrying  their 
moveables  everywhere  but  where  they  should ;  bemoaning  their 
unhappy  lot  in  coming  to  sea  in  time  of  war ;  rolling  up  their 
bedding,  and  tumbling  their  trunks  down  the  orlop  deck  stairs  ; 
and  some  of  them  tumbling  themselves  after  them ;  inquiring  of 
every  one  whom  they  judged  in  the  least  likely  to  know,  whether 
it  would  be  a  hard  fight ;  whether  the  French  would  take  all  the 
passengers'  property ;  whether  they  should  be  put  into  prison ; 
whether  they  should  ever  get  home;  &c,  &c." 

To  return  to  my  father's  journal :  "  At  half-past  nine  we  had 
everything  in  readiness,  and  every  man  to  his  station :  the  guns 
all  primed,  the  matches  lit,  and  all  the  women  and  children 
ordered  down  into  the  hold.  .  .  .  At  a  quarter  before  ten 
the  Frenchman  fired  one  gun,  though  at  too  great  a  distance  to 
reach  us.  In  five  minutes  more  they  were  near  enough,  when 
our  captain  fired  our  first  gun  with  his  own  hand,  it  being  one 
that  stood  on  the  quarter-deck ;  the  men  gave  three  cheers,  and 
the  action  commenced  very  briskly  on  both  sides,  the  two  ships 
being  near  enough  to  use  muskets  and  have  a  distinct  view  of 
each  other.  The  French  ship  appeared  new,  and  in  every 
respect  like  a  frigate,  except  in  size.    Their  musket-balls  for  a 


4 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap,  l 


few  minutes  were  sent  so  rapidly  against  the  side  of  our  ship, 
that  the  noise  to  us  was  like  a  hail-storm  against  a  window,  and 
yet  we  had  not  a  man  killed  by  them.  One  grazed  our  steward's 
neck,  and  another  went  through  the  fleshy  part  of  a  man's  arm. 
No  muskets  were  fired  from  our  ship,  except  by  some  of  the  pas- 
sengers, as  our  men  were  all  required  to  work  our  heavy  guns ; 
in  which  we  were,  in  one  respect,  very  unfortunate,  as  almost 
every  one  of  the  24-pounders  that  was  fired  tumbled  over.  I 
counted  at  one  time  five  of  them  lying  on  their  sides  on  the 
gun-deck.  The  carriages  were  made  on  a  new  patent  plan,  but 
so  high  and  narrow  that  they  could  not  bear  the  recoil.  One  of 
them  in  falling  broke  the  leg  of  our  carpenter.  The  two  ships 
were  but  for  a  few  minutes  near  enough  to  use  muskets ;  after 
which  some  of  the  passengers  who  had  been  engaged  with  them 
went  to  assist  in  making  wads  and  handing  cartridges,  and  the 
rest  went  below.  The  action  was  now  continued  with  the  cannon 
on  both  sides ;  ours  were  pointed  at  the  hull  of  the  enemy,  and 
we  saw  the  effects  of  them  in  several  places.  They  generally 
aimed  at  our  rigging  with  double-headed  shot,  grape-shot,  large 
spike  nails,  bars  of  iron  from  six  to  twelve  inches  long,  and  some 
of  them  an  inch  square,  which  did  much  damage  to  our  sails 
and  ropes.  At  eleven  o'clock  the  privateer  steered  off,  to  our 
great  joy,' as  almost  all  our  cartridges  were  gone,  most  of  our 
24-pounders  dismounted,  and  our  crew  much  fatigued.  We  had 
lost,  however,  but  one  man,  who  was  hit  by  a  grape-shot  through 
the  head,  and  died  instantly. 

"  It  was  the  opinion  of  our  captain,  that  the  enemy  had  gone 
only  to  repair  some  of  her  damages,  and  meant  to  attack  us 
again.  After  some  grog,  therefore,  all  hands  went  to  work  mak- 
ing cartridges,  wads,  &c,  and  getting  the  guns  in  their  places ; 
and  rather  before  all  was  ready,  we  saw  the  Frenchman  bearing 
•  down  on  us  a  second  time,  though  not  so  fast  but  that  we  were 
enabled  to  be  quite  prepared  before  he  came  near. 

"  They  began  to  fire  at  a  great  distance ;  but  our  captain 
ordered  his  men  not  to  fire  till  they  were  close  to  us,  and  then 
as  fast  as  possible  with  the  24-pounders.  At  a  quarter  past  one 
we  commenced  the  second  action,  with  more  vigour  on  our  part 
than  the  first.    The  men  were  so  eager  to  despatch  the  business, 


CHAP.  I.] 


FRENCH  SHIP  VANQUISHED. 


5 


that  they  charged  the  guns  with  a  24-pound  ball  and  two  double- 
headed  shot.  The  French,  as  before,  aimed  at  our  rigging,  and 
we  at  their  hull,  which  our  24-pounders  damaged  very  much; 
four  of  them  were  seen  to  go  through  her  on  one  side  below 
the  wale,  and  another  stove  in  the  whole  of  her  gangway.  At 
a  few  minutes  before  two  o'clock  she  sheered  off,  and  did  not 
return,  leaving  us  with  our  rigging  terribly  damaged :  our  main- 
mast shot  through  in  four  places,  the  mizen  top-sail  yard  in 
one,  and  the  cross  jack-yard  cut  in  two  in  the  middle ;  one  ball 
through  the  fore-top  mast,  and  nearly  half  the  shrouds  and  stays 
of  the  ship  cut  away.  Most  of  the  braces  were  gone ;  and  the 
mizen  stay-sail,  the  smallest  we  had  up,  had  thirty  holes  in  it, 
the  main-sail  sixty-two,  and  the  others  in  the  same  proportion: 
yet  in  the  last  action  not  a  man  was  either  killed  or  wounded. 

"  At  three  o'clock  the  French  ship  was  so  far  off  that  we  had 
no  expectation  of  her  return ;  when  the  captain  told  me  I  might 
get  my  family  up  from  where  they  had  been  confined  for  more 
than  five  hours,  with  very  little  air,  and  the  light  of  only  one 
lanthorn.  At  four  the  privateer  was  nearly  out  of  sight,  and  we 
sat  down  to  dine  on  a  large  boiled  ham,  which  the  cook  had  got 
done  for  us,  notwithstanding  all  the  bustle.  The  men  had  at 
the  same  time  their  usual  fare,  to  which  the  captain  added  two 
cheeses  and  an  extra  allowance  of  grog.  Thus  ended  the  busy 
part  of  the  day;  and,  although  we  had  beaten  off  our  enemy, 
the  evening  prospect  was  but  a  gloomy  one.  Our  deck  was  as 
black  as  the  sides  of  the  ship  with  the  quantity  of  powder  that 
had  been  burnt  on  it,  and  was  covered  with  ropes,  blocks,  pieces 
of  masts,  yards,  &c,  balls,  shot,  and  spike-nails.*  We  had  only 
four  rags  of  sails  up,  and  were  not  able  to  manage  them  for  want 
of  braces.  Night  coming  on,  put  it  out  of  our  power  to  do  any- 
thing but  let  the  ship  drift  before  the  wind,  which  was  east. 

"The  evening  was  closed  by  bringing  up  on  deck  the  man 
that  had  been  killed,  sewn  up  in  canvas,  with  a  cannon-ball  at  his 
feet.  He  was  laid  on  the  deck ;  the  company  stood  round  while 
one  of  the  passengers  read  prayers  over  him,  and  he  was  then 
lowered  gently  into  the  sea.    The  name  of  this  young  man  was 

*  I  remember  hearing  my  father  say,  that  he  found  the  iron  of  an  old  patten 
sticking  in  the  side  of  the  ship. 


6 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  I. 


Samuel  Reed ;  he  was  a  good  sailor,  and  had  been  with  Trux 
ton  when  he  took  a  French  frigate,  and  afterwards  in  the  ship 
Planta  when  she  beat  off  a  French  privateer  in  the  Channel 
in  the  early  part  of  the  summer." 

Mr.  Greatrakes  says :  "  During  the  action  a  circumstance  oc- 
curred that  showed  the  character  of  our  captain.  A  wad  from 
one  of  the  Frenchman's  32-pound  carronades  struck  the^  star- 
board quarter-rail  and  flew  back,  spinning  round  with  great  veloc- 
ity. He  instantly  attempted  to  jump  on  it  and  stop  it,  almost 
pushing  me  down  to  get  it.  Then  tearing  and  cutting  it  to 
pieces,  he  charged  the  larboard  6-pounder  several  times,  and, 
stuffing  the  fragments  of  the  wad  into  it,  fired  it  back  again 
at  the  Frenchman,  swearing  bitterly  at  the  whole  nation  all  the 
time.* 

"  Two  boys,  from  thirteen  to  fifteen  years  of  age,  got  a  stroke 
or  two  from  the  first  officer  for  dancing  hornpipes  on  the  main- 
deck  during  the  heaviest  part  of  both  ships'  fire.  Another  boy, 
in  carrying  forward  a  24-pound  cartridge,  had  it  shot  away  from 
his  hands.  '  There,'  said  he,  with  an  oath  directed  to  the  French- 
man, '  you  ,  now  I  must  go  back  for  another.'    In  the  early 

part  of  the  action  our  colours  were  shot  down,  when  our  third 
mate,  Mr.  Thomas  (an  Irishman)  and  our  little  steward  emu- 
lously  contended  for  the  honour  of  first  mounting  the  poop,  to 
nail  them  to  the  mizen-mast,  in  the  midst  of  a  most  heavy  fire 
of  musketry.  Thomas  succeeded  in  getting  the  fallen  colours 
and  nailing  them  up,  though  they  were  shot  through  several 
times  while  he  was  doing  it,  and  two  geese  were  killed  in  the 
coop  on  which  he  stood.  A  young  American  gentleman,  named 
Wallraven,  distinguished  himself  by  his  gallantry,  and  was  pub- 
licly thanked  by  the  captain  after  the  action." 

Of  such  of  the  occurrences  of  this  eventful  day  as  were  most 
calculated  to  make  an  impression  on  the  mind  of  a  child  of  five 

*  Young  as  I  was,  I  can  recall  to  mind  the  figure  of  Captain  Williamson. 
He  was  a  well-formed,  strong-made  man,  of  a  good  height,  but  not  tall.  On 
this  occasion  he  wore  a  kind  of  naval  uniform,  a  hanger  at  his  side,  and  a  belt 
round  his  waist,  in  which  were  stuck  a  pair  of  pistols.  From  what  will  be 
related,  he  seemed  (like  Dr.  Johnson),  to  consider  one  Englishman  a  match  for 
four  Frenchmen ;  and  with  Englishmen  he  no  doubt  classed  Americans,  as  well 
as  Scotchmen. 


CHAP.  I.] 


THE  NEWFOUNDLAND  DOG. 


7 


years  of  age,  I  have  a  tolerable  recollection.  I  had  often  before 
looked  with  awe  down  the  hatches  into  the  gloomy  region  in 
which  we  were  confined  during  the  battle,  and  had  seen  indis- 
tinctly the  upright  post  with  notches  in  it  for  the  feet,  by  which 
we  children  were  carried  down.  My  wonder  and  admiration 
were  now  excited  by  the  steward,  who  seemed  to  me  almost  to 
fly  up  and  down  this  post  by  the  help  of  the  hand-rope,  his  fre- 
quent visits  having  no  other  object  than  to  see  that  we  were  as 
comfortable  as  circumstances  permitted,  to  tell  us  all  the  best 
news  from  the  decks,  and  to  bring  us  reinforcements  of  ginger- 
bread, oranges,  and  wine. 

All  my  notions  of  war  were  associated  with  the  then  popular 
piece  of  music,  the  "  Battle  of  Prague,"  which  I  had  heard  my 
eldest  sister  play  on  the  piano ;  and,  accordingly,  when  I  heard 
the  groans  of  the  poor  man  whose  leg  was  crushed,  and  who  was 
brought  somewhere  near  us,  I  exclaimed,  "  There  are  the  cries 
of  the  wounded."  The  burial  of  the  man  who  was  killed  made 
a  deep  impression  on  me,  for  I  saw  his  messmates  carry  him  to 
the  bow  of  the  ship,  and  I  could  distinctly  trace  the  human  form 
through  the  white  canvas  in  which  it  was  tightly  sewn  up ;  and 
this  —  to  me,  the  first  —  image  of  death,  has  never  been  effaced 
fr,om  my  recollection. 

Often  as  children  are  frightened  without  cause,  they  are  as 
often  in  moments  of  real  danger  less  alarmed  than  their  elders ; 
and  I,  though  constitutionally  timid,  have  no  recollection  of  being 
terrified  by  what  was  going  on,  perhaps  because  I  believed  the 
hold  to  be  a  place  of  perfect  safety.  I  remember  that  my  brother 
and  I  amused  ourselves  for  a  great  part  of  the  time  with  playing 
at  hide  and  seek  among  the  water-casks,  with  some  of  the  other 
children  of  the  passengers.  My  brother,  indeed,  who  was  more 
heroic  than  I,  wanted  a  little  pistol,  that  he  might  go  on  deck 
and  shoot  the  "naughty  Frenchmen."  My  two  elder  sisters 
were  of  an  age  to  understand  and  feel  alarmed  for  our  situa- 
tion, and  my  youngest  sister  was  dangerously  ill  with  an  attack 
of  pleurisy,  and  in  that  state  taken  out  of  bed  and  carried  below. 
What  must  my  poor  mother  have  suffered ! 

The  captain  had  a  very  fine  Newfoundland  dog,  named  Nero, 
who  was  always  greatly  excited  by  the  firing  of  guns.  During 


8 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  I. 


the  engagement,  he  was  so  much  in  the  way  of  the  sailors,  run- 
ning from  one  end  of  the  ship  to  the  other,  jumping  on  the  guns 
and  barking,  that  either  by  chance  or  design  he  was  thrown  down 
a  hatchway,  and  his  leg  broken  by  the  Ml.  The  poor  animal 
became  so  restless,  and  his  howls  were  so  distressing,  that  my 
father,  having  fastened  a  rope  to  his  collar,  carried  him  to  a  part 
of  the  hold  as  far  as  possible  from  that  which  we  occupied,  and 
while  endeavouring  to  find  some  means  of  securing  him,  he  found 
one  of  the  passengers  sitting  alone  and  quite  in  the  dark.  My 
father  asked  him  to  hold  the  dog,  but  receiving  no  answer,  he 
placed  the  rope  in  his  hand,  but  it  was  cold  and  trembling,  and 
incapable  of  retaining  it. 

The  broken  leg  was  probably  not  the  worst  hurt  poor  Nero 
received  by  his  fall,  for  he  died  a  few  days  afterwards,  greatly 
regretted  by  his  master,  who  gratified  him,  in  his  last  moments, 
by  firing  a  pistol  over  him ;  a  favour  Nero  acknowledged  by 
slightly  moving  his  tail,  and  making  a  faint  attempt  to  bark. 

Some  of  these  particulars  have  probably  remained  with  me 
from  hearing  my  father  and  others  of  the  family  mention  them 
after  our  arrival  in  America,  rather  than  from  my  own  recol- 
lection. 

Mr.  Greatrakes  relates  that  — "  As  our  damages  were  too 
great  to  be  repaired  at  sea,  and  the  wind  was  unfavourable  either 
for  England  or  Ireland,  the  captain  determined  to  go  to  Lisbon 
to  refit,  from  whence  we  were  about  500  miles  distant. 

"On  the  26th,  another  privateer,  a  brig,  appeared  in  sight 
with  all  sails  set  to  overtake  us;  probably  supposing,  from  our 
shattered  condition,  she  would  find  us  an  easy  prey.  She  came 
up  with  us  towards  evening,  and  our  captain  determined  to  sink 
her,  which  his  weight  of  metal  enabled  him  to  do.  Luckily  for 
her,  however,  a  shot  fired  prematurely  reached  her,  and  she  took 
French  leave  as  quickly  as  possible. 

"  On  the  30th  we  took  a  Lisbon  pilot,  who  came  on  board  with 
a  cocked  hat  and  a  high  plume  of  red  feathers,  laced  ruffles  to 
his  shirt,  and  a  sword  by  his  side.* 

*  The  house  in  which  we  passed  our  "  Winter  in  Lisbon,"  had  been  built 
purposely  for  the  accommodation  of  lodgers.  It  was  four  stories  high.  On 
each  story  were  two  complete  and  distinct  suites  of  rooms;  each  suite  com- 


CHAP.  I.] 


EESIDENCE  AT  LISBON. 


9 


"The  repairs  of  the  ship  detained  us  at  Lisbon  five  months 
and  two  days,  though  the  carpenter  had  engaged  to  send  us  to 

prising  a  very  large  parlour  or  drawing-room,  four  chambers,  and  a  kitchen. 
Our  family  occupied  a  set  of  apartments  on  the  second  story  or  first-floor. 
The  adjoining  set  was  rented  by  a  Portuguese  fidalgo  who  held  a  small  place 
under  the  government,  and  with  his  wife,  sister,  and  chikhen,  led  a  life  of  pre- 
tension and  poverty,  show  and  dirt.  All  the  rooms,  except  the  kitchens,  were 
built  entirely  without  fire-places,  or  any  means  of  heating  them  except  by  the 
occasional  introduction  of  a  brazier  of  charcoal,  in  which  case  it  was  of  course 
imperative  to  sit  with  a  door  or  window  open.  And  even  then,  the  fumes  pro- 
duced such  headaches  that  we  thought  it  better  to  endure  the  cold.  In  the 
south  of  Europe,  the  lamentable  scarcity  of  fuel  is  a  serious  drawback  to  any 
pleasure  that  may  be  derived  from  passing  a  winter  in  those  countries.  The 
houses  are  built  as  if  for  perpetual  summer.  Though  during  the  whole  winter 
there  was  no  snow  that  lay  on  the  ground,  and  no  ice  thicker  than  a  shilling, 
we  had  several  weeks  of  almost  incessant  rain,  accompanied  by  cold,  driving 
winds;  and  afterwards  occasional  rain-storms  of  three  or  four  days.  And  such 
rains!  a  whole  cloud  seemed  to  descend  at  once.  The  streets  (fortunately  for 
them)  were  so  flooded  that  at  times  they  looked  as  if  cataracts  were  rushing 
down  between  the  two  rows  of  houses.  But  it  washed  them  clean.  Our  door- 
windows  fitted  so  badly,  that  the  rain  poured  in  at  them  through  all  sorts  of 
crevices  and  open  places ;  so  that,  at  each  of  the  thi-ee,  large  tubs  had  to  be 
placed  to  catch  the  water  that  would  otherwise  have  deluged  .the  floor.  After 
the  first  rain,  however,  my  father  contrived  means  to  stop  up  these  cracks,  so 
as  to  render  the  in-pouring  less  violent.  But  the  dampness  that  pervaded  the 
house,  and  all  other  bouses  in  this  tireless  country,  was  without  remedy.  The 
shoes  that  we  took  off  at  night  were  frequently  in  the  morning  found  covered  with 
blue  mould.  So  also  were  the  surbases,  and  the  frames  of  the  chairs  and  tables. 
Our  clothes  became  mouldy  in  the  bureaus  and  presses ;  the  covers  and  edges 
of  our  books  were  frequently  coated  with  mould  in  a  single  night.  To  guard 
against  the  effects  of  this  humid  atmosphere,  which  there  was  no  fire  to  coun- 
teract, we  had  recourse  to  many  strange  expedients.  Every  morning,  on  rising, 
we  dressed  ourselves  as  if  we  were  going  to  spend  the  day  in  the  street;  put- 
ting on  as  many  under  garments  as  we  could,  and  finishing  with  our  pelisses  or 
outside  coats,  and  fur  tippets.  We  wore  our  bonnets  all  day  long;  and  my 
sisters  and  myself  rejoiced  in  cottage  beavers,  tied  in  closely  to  our  faces.  My 
father  (always  in  his  great  coat)  likewise  kept  on  his  hat,  and  the  two  boys 
were  made  to  keep  on  theirs.  Several  days  were  really  so  cold,  as  well  as 
damp,  that  after  breakfast  we  all  went  regularly  to  bed;  remaining  there  the 
whole  day,  except  at  meal-times.  This  we  found  a  tolerably  good  plan,  and  1 
liked  it  very  well,  as  I  could  then  give  myself  up  entirely  to  reading.  One  of 
the  amusements  of  the  juvenile  part  of  the  family,  when  our  parents  were  not 
present  (with  shame  I  speak  of  it),  was  to  peep  through  the  keyhole,  with  a 
desire  to  be  enlightened  as  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Portuguese  peo- 
ple who  occupied  the  adjoining  suite  of  apartments;  a  door,  always  locked, 
being  between  their  drawing-room  and  ours.  We  would  not  have  acted  so  dis- 
honourably towards  persons  of  our  own  country,  or  even  to  British  neighbours ; 
but  we  regarded  the  Portuguese  as  "no  rule."    We  soon  ascertained  that 


10 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  I> 


sea  in  six  weeks,  or  two  months  at  the  farthest.  The  expense 
was  £12,000  sterling,  with  a  deduction  of  £2000  for  old  mate- 
rials. 

their  general  habiliments  were  old  and  slovenly,  but  that  whenever  a  fine  day 
tempted  the  lady-wife  to  walk  out,  she  covered  her  dirty  dark  calico  dress  with 
an  elegant  blue  satin  cloak  trimmed  with  ermine ;  and  had  a  barber  to  come 
and  dress  her  hair,  and  decorate  it  with  embroidered  ribbons ;  bonnets  not  yet 
being  introduced  into  Portugal.  Keeping  no  regular  servant,  she,  for  these 
occasions,  hired,  by  the  hour,  two  maids  to  walk  after  her.  When  any  of  her 
female  friends  came  to  visit  our  neighbour,  they  also  brought  their  maids  -with 
them;  and  while  the  mistresses  were  conversing  on  the  sofa,  the  maids  sat  flat 
on  the  floor  in  front  of  them,  and  kept  up  a  whispering  talk  with  each  other. 
Among  other  items  of  keyhole  knowledge,  we  discovered  that  every  day,  about 
dinner-time,  our  neighbours  had  a  table  set  out  in  their  parlour  with  clean 
damask  cloth  and  napkins,  pieces  of  bread,  silver  forks,  spoons,  castors,  &c; 
handsome  wine-glasses,  and  goblets,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  a  very  genteel 
dinner  equipage.  The  table  stood  thus  during  an  hour  or  more;  so  that  if  vis- 
itors came  in,  they  might  suppose  that  the  family  were  preparing  to  sit  down 
in  style  comme  il faut.  But  to  this  table  they  never  did  sit  down;  for  when  the 
time  of  exhibition  had  elapsed,  all  the  fine  things  were  taken  off  and  carefully 
put  away  for  a  similar  show  the  next  day,  and  the  next.  Meanwhile  (as  we 
found  by  reconnoitring  through  the  kitchen  keyhole)  the  Portuguese  family  all 
assembled  in  the  place  where  their  food  was  cooked;  seated  themselves  on  the 
floor  round  a  large  earthen  pan  filled  with  some  sort  of  stew;  and  each  dipped 
in  a  pewter  spoon  and  fed  out  of  that  same  pan.  Our  house  was  supplied  with 
milk  in  the  usual  Portuguese  fashion ;  the  fashion  at  least  of  that  time.  A 
dirty  old  man  with  a  red  woollen  cap  on  his  head,  and  round  his  ragged  jacket 
a  red  woollen  sash,  to  which  hung  several  tin  cups  of  various  measures,  drove 
before  him  a  cow,  two  she-asses,  and  three  or  four  goats,  stopping  to  milk 
them  at  the  doors  of  his  customers,  who  thus  had  their  choice  of  cow's  milk, 
ass's  milk,  or  goat's  milk.  The  two  last  milks  are  considered  good  for  invalids; 
English  people  of  that  unfortunate  class  being  then  in  the  habit  of  resorting  to 
Lisbon  for  the  improvement  of  their  health.  They  have  grown  wiser  since  the 
whole  European  continent  has  been  opened  to  them.  Our  milkman,  like  all 
other  Portuguese,  took  snuff  a  loutrance ;  always  stopping  to  regale  himself 
with  a  pinch  more  than  once  during  the  process  of  milking  into  the  tin  mug, 
and  then  resuming  with  his  snuffy  fingers.  A  remonstrance  from  the  person 
who  stood  at  the  door  to  take  the  milk  so  offended  his  Portuguese  dignity,  that 
he  immediately  drove  off  his  beasts  in  high  dudgeon,  and  there  was  no  milk 
that  day.  Next  morning,  when  he  was  caught  with  some  difficulty  as  he 
passed  grandly  by,  it  required  considerable  coaxing  and  apologising,  and  many 
promises  of  future  good  behaviour,  to  prevail  on  him  to  stop,  and  supply  milk 
as  usual.  The  fashion  of  knee-breeches,  cocked  hats,  and  hair  tied  and  pow- 
dered, was  retained  by  the  Portuguese  long  after  that  style  became  obsolete  in 
all  other  parts  of  the  world.  With  their  long  and  ample  cloaks,  there  was  no 
need  of  wasting  money  on  good  clothes  to  wear  underneath;  and  linen  was 
rarely  discerned  about  their  necks,  for  very  good  reasons.  A  large  house  was 
building  next  door  to  ours.    Immediately  in  front,  the  street  was  chiefly  occu- 


CHAP.  I.] 


EESIDENCE  AT  LISBON. 


11 


"  While  we  were  at  Lisbon  we  heard  from  the  American  con- 
sul at  Corunna,  of  the  privateer  we  had  been  engaged  with. 

pied  by  a  wide  deep  slough  or  mud-hole,  where  the  paving-stones  had  sunk  or 
died  away;  and  the  councilmen,  or  aldermen,  or  selectmen  (if  there  are  any 
such  persons  in  Lisbon)  had  taken  no  account  of  it.  When  the  weather  was 
uncommonly  bad,  the  carts  that  brought  stone  for  the  building  generally  stuck 
fast  in  this  capacious  hole.  The  Lisbon  carts  were  of  very  primitive  structure. 
They  had  no  close  sides;  neither  had  they  iron  stanchions  like  those  of  drays 
to  keep  things  from  falling;  there  were  only  a  few  crooked  sticks,  stuck  in 
here  and  there  along  the  edges.  Though  wood  is  so  scarce  in  Portugal,  there 
was  a  great  waste  of  it  in  the  wheels,  which  had  no  spokes,  but  were  solid  and 
massy,  like  grindstones;  and  the  axle-tree  revolved  with  them,  groaning,  or 
rather,  shrieking  dismally  all  the  time.  These  carts  were  drawn  by  a  pair  of 
oxen,  which  it  always  required  two  men  to  urge  along.  The  dress  of  these 
carmen  began  by  cocked  hats,  and  powdered  hair  tastefully  queued  withblue 
or  pink  ribbons;  cotton  velvet  jackets  with  tarnished,  tinsel-looking  orna- 
ments; faded  breeches  open  at  the  knees;  and  their  bare  Portuguese  legs 
ended,  as  usual,  in  old  shoes  with  large  showy  buckles.  Each  driver  carried 
a  goad,  and  when  the  cart-load  of  stone  got  into  the  slough,  while  one  man 
goaded  the  oxen,  shouting  violently  something  that  sounded  like  the 
other  went  to  their  heads,  and  endeavoured  to  frighten  the  poor  beasts  out  of 
the  mud-hole  by  making  ferocious  faces  at  them,  and  shrilling  also  in  a  loud 
voice,  and  brandishing  his  stick  threateningly.  The  workmen  came  out  of  the 
house  to  assist  in  this  enterprise  of  extricating  the  cart ;  and  they  always  had 
to  do  at  the  end  what  they  should  have  done  at  the  beginning,  —  unload  it  of 
the  slabs  of  stone ;  after  which,  the  oxen  and  the  empty  cart  were  generally 
shahed  out  of  the  hole  in  less  than  half-an-hour.  Among  the  sights  of  Lisbon 
streets,  those  that  have  a  taste  for  such  things  may  be  treated  daily  with  the 
gratuitous  view  of  a  pig-killing.  If  a  man  is  driving  a  pig,  and  the  animal 
seems  to  have  more  than  his  usual  disinclination  to  "  go  a-head,"  the  driver,  to 
cut  short  all  further  argument,  stops  in  the  open  street,  takes  out  his  knife,  and 
deliberately  kills  the  pig.  Then,  getting  some  dry  furze  from  the  nearest  shop, 
he  makes  a  fire  in  the  street,  singes  and  scrapes  the  animal,  removes  the 
inside,  and  carries  the  carcase  home  on  his  shoulder,  all  ready  for  selling  or 
cooking.  The  Portuguese  pork  is  the  finest  in  the  world:  being  fattened  on 
chestnuts  and  sweet  acorns.  This  food  gives  a  peculiar  sweetness  and  delicacy 
to  the  meat,  the  fat  of  which  is  as  mild  as  cream.  The  beef  is  far  from  good ; 
and  there  is  a  law  against  killing  calves;  it  being  thought  better  they  should 
live  and  grow  up  into  larger  and  more  profitable  animals.  Nevertheless,  mys- 
terious men  came  sometimes  to  our  house,  and  with  many  and  solemn  injunc- 
tions to  secrecy,  produced  from  under  their  cloaks  a  piece  of  veal,  for  which 
they  asked  an  enormous  price  as  an  indemnification  to  their  consciences  for 
having  violated  the  law.  Kids  are  much  eaten  in  Portugal;  but  it  is  not  alto- 
gether safe  to  venture  on  one,  unless  you  are  quite  sure  that  it  is  not  a  cat.  I 
am  still  uneasy  with  a  misgiving,  that,  at  a  table  not  our  own,  I  did  eat  a  slice  of 
grimalkin  kid ;  and  I  can  never  be  quite  certain  that  I  did  not.  I  must  say, 
however,  that  whether  of  the  feline  species  or  not,  it  looked  and  tasted  well. 
Among  the  country  people  that  came  into  market,  were  the  wine-sellers, 


12 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  I. 


She  was  called  La  Bellone,  of  Bordeaux,  a  beautiful  new  ship, 
mounting  twenty-six  brass  twelves  and  four  thirty-two  pound 
carronades.  She  was  a  very  SAvift  sailer,  and  had,  when  she  left 
port,  275  men;  but. when  she  engaged  us  her  complement  was 
240,  having  put  the  others  on  board  a  British  prize.  We  killed 
thirty-seven  and  wounded  fifty-eight,  and  when  she  got  to  Co- 
runna,  she  had  four  and  a  half  feet  water  in  the  hold."  These 
particulars  are  confirmed  by  my  father's  journal,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  number  of  men  killed,  which  he  states  at  thirty.* 

"  On  the  31st  of  March,"  says  Mr.  Greatrakes,  "  we  left  Lis- 
bon, and  the  same  day  we  carried  away  our  new  fore  top-mast 
in  a  gale,  and  the  next  morning  though  the  wind  had  subsided 
suddenly,  it. left  such  a  deep  trenching  sea  that  the  ship  rolled 
in  the  most  dreadful  manner,  and  about  11  o'clock  our  new  main 
top-mast  was  rolled  over-board,  with  a  man  and  a  boy  on  it. 
The  man  was  killed,  but  the  boy  saved  himself  by  catching  in 
the  shrouds,  though  he  was  severely  wounded. 

"  On  the  3rd  April,  while  all  hands  were  busily  employed  in 
clearing  the  wreck  of  the  two  masts,  at  five,  p.m.,  we  saw  a  sail 
to  windward,  appearing  like  a  ship  of  war.  We  could  not  make 
sail  from  her,  if  we  would,  and  our  captain  now  pronounced  her 
a  frigate,  and  declared  his  intention  of  fighting  her,  should  she 
prove  to  be  an  enemy.  We  cleared  for  action,  and  at  six  we 
could  see  her  hull,  but  no  colours;  at  half-past  six  we  were 
ready,  and  could  now  discern  her  hoisting  colours,  but  it  was 
too  dark  to  see  what  they  were.  At  seven  she  shot  across 
our  bows,  within  pistol-shot,  matches  lighted,  and  every  gun 
with  lanthorns,  as  were  ours.  At  this  moment  a  perfect  silence 
reigned  in  both  ships ;  not  a  whisper  wras  to  be  heard  in  our 
own.  We  were  incapable  of  preventing  her  from  lying  on 
us  in  any  situation  she  might  choose,  and  her  taking  this  very 
formidable  one  of  crossing  our  bows  alarmed  us  much,  as  she 
might  in  passing,  being  higher  than  ourselves,  have  raked  us 

each  carrying  on  his  back  a  borachio  or  goat-skin,  distended  with  new  wine, 
the  forelegs  being  brought  round  the  neck  of  the  man  and  tied  together  in 
front.  Such  were  the  wine-skins  that  Don  Quixote  attacked  with  his  sword, 
mistaking  them  for  an  army  of  soldiers.  — 11  Recollections  of  Lisbon"  by  Miss 
Leslie. 

*  The  remainder  of  my  father's  journal  has  unfortunately  been  lost. 


CHAP.  I.] 


ARRIVAL  AT  PHILADELPHIA. 


13 


dreadfully.  We  now  concluded  she  was  an  enemy,  and  respi- 
ration seemed  almost  to  cease  among  us  for  a  few  seconds,  ex- 
pecting her  fire.  She,  however,  swiftly  crossed  our  bows  from 
starboard  to  larboard,  and  wearing  round,  as  if  animated  by  an 
instinctive  spirit,  laid  herself  alongside  of  us  at  about  twenty 
yards'  distance.  In  this  manoeuvre  was  fully  exhibited  the  great 
skill  and  discipline  of  British  seamen,  and  all  was  done  in  profound 
silence.  She  hailed  us  in  English,  a  language  at  this  moment 
peculiarly  musical  to  our  ears,  and  she  proved  to  be  the  Sea 
Horse,  a  38-gun  frigate,  most  gallantly  manned  and  homeward- 
bound  from  a  cruise.* 

"  On  the  11th  May  we  arrived  at  Philadelphia,  forty-two  days 
from  Lisbon,  and  seven  months  and  twenty-six  days  from  Lon- 
don." 

My  father  now  found  himself  obliged  to  engage  in  a  lawsuit 
with  the  executors  of  his  deceased  partner,  who  had  greatly  mis- 
managed the  business.  The  lawsuit  turned  out  tedious  and  ex- 
pensive, and  before  it  was  decided  my  father,  whose  health  had 
been  long  declining,  died,  after  a  confinement  to  his  room  of  one 
week. 

This  was  in  1804.  I  was  too  young  to  feel  how  much  we  all 
lost  in  him.  He  was  a  most  kind  parent,  and  I  cannot  now  recol- 
lect that  I  ever  had  an  angry  word  from  him,  though  I  can  re- 
member many  indulgences  and  gratifications  which  he  afforded  to 
my  sisters,  my  brother,  and  myself,  at  an  expense  of  time  and 
trouble,  of  which  we  were  then  little  aware.  The  retrospect  con- 
vinces me  that  his  chief  happiness  consisted  in  making  his  chil- 
dren happy,  as  well  as  his  wife,  between  whom  and  himself  I  can 
remember  nothing  but  entire  harmony  and  affection.  The  only 
recollections  of  my  father  that  are  painful,  are  of  his  ill-health. 
I  cannot  recall  to  mind  a  single  day  in  which  he  seemed  quite 
well ;  and  his  disorders  must  have  been  greatly  aggravated  by  his 
pecuniary  embarrassments  during  the  last  years  of  his  life. 

Among  his  most  intimate  friends,  I  remember  the  leading  phy- 

*  It  may  seem  incredible  that  the  captain  of  our  ship  should  have  thought  of 
fighting  a  frigate,  disabled  as  he  was;  but  he  assuredly  did  so,  for  I  distinctly 
remember,  when  we  came  up  from  the  hold,  seeing  our  sailors  all  ranged  at 
their  guns  with  lighted  matches,  and  I  can,  therefore,  vouch  for  the  veracity  of 
Mr.  Greatrakes. 


14 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  i. 


sicians  of  Philadelphia  —  Doctors  Rush,  Barton,  Whistar,  Phy- 
sick,  and  Mease.  He  had  also  known  Franklin,  and  among  his 
daily  associates  were  Charles  Wilson  Peale,  and  Oliver  Evans, 
two  men  of  great  ingenuity  —  the  first  in  many  ways,  the  last  as 
an  engineer.  That  a  man,  without  any  advantages  of  education, 
should  have  lived  constantly  in  such  society;  proves  that  he  pos- 
sessed no  ordinary  mind.  His  reading  was,  probably,  not  exten- 
sive ;  but  I  remember  that,  after  Shakespeare,  his  favourite  au- 
thors were  Addison,  Pope,  Fielding,  Sterne,  and  Goldsmith.  He 
made  a  small  collection  of  engravings  in  England,  and  "  Hogarth's 
Apprentices  "  were  among  the  number. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Desire  to  be  a  painter —  George  Frederick  Cooke  —  Departure  for  England  — 
New  acquaintances  —  Visits  to  the  theatre  —  Allston  and  Coleridge  —  Visit 
to  Clifton —  Obtain  the  Academy  medals —  Fuseli  and  Westmacott  —  Visit 
to  Paris  —  Coleridge's  lectures  on  Shakespeare  —  Fragments  of  Coleridge 
—  Coleridge  at  Highgate  —  Charles  and  Mary  Lamb. 

At  my  father's  death  there  was  so  little  property  left  that  my 
mother  was  obliged  to  open  a  boarding-house,  and  my  eldest  sister 
to  teach  drawing  to  support  the  family.  My  brother  and  I  had 
been  sent  to  school  at  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  which  then 
occupied  a  splendid  house  in  Ninth-street,  built  by  the  citizens  of 
Philadelphia  to  present  to  General  Washington,  but  which  the 
removal  of  the  seat  of  government  from  that  city  prevented  his 
occupying. 

It  would  not  have  been  in  the  power  of  my  mother  to  continue 
sending  us  to  this  school,  but  for  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Rogers,  the 
English  professor,  a  Baptist  minister,  who,  abated  considerably  in 
his  charge  for  our  tuition,  and  Mr.  Robert  Petterson,  the  profes- 
sor of  mathematics,  who,  having  known  my  father  intimately, 
made  no  charge  whatever.  I  am  sorry  to  say,  however,  I  did 
not  appreciate  this  liberality  as  I  ought  to  have  done,  but  neg- 
lected the  study  of  mathematics  as  much  as  I  possibly  could. 

My  summers  and  autumns  were  at  this  period  regularly  spent 
in  visits  to  my  great  uncles,  Philip  Ward  and  George  Hall,  with 
my  eldest  sister,  Eliza,  and  my  kind  aunt,  Margaret  Leslie  (my 
father's  sister).  These  uncles  lived  in  Chester  county,  and  were 
farmers.  The  scenery  about  Mr.  Ward's  house  was  very  beauti- 
ful, the  Brandy  wine  creek  ran  near  it,  and  one  of' its  tributary 
streams  turned  a  flour-mill  and  a  saw-mill  belonging  to  my  uncle. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  kindness  I  received  from  my  worthy  rela- 
tives, while  under  their  roofs.    Their  habits  were  simple  and 


16 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  II. 


rustic.  My  uncle  Hall  performed  all  the  work  of  his  little  farm 
himself ;  but  then,  he  belonged  to  a  volunteer  corps  of  cavalry  ; 
indeed,  he  had  served  in  the  revolutionary  war,  and  his  horse- 
man's boots,  cap,  sword,  and  his  blue  coat  with  red  facings,  which 
I  saw  hanging  up  in  his  bed-room,  though  they  never  happened 
to  be  worn  during  our  visits,  gave  him  great  importance  in  my 
eyes.  At  Mr.  Ward's,  one  of  his  sons  was  the  working  miller, 
and  the  other  the  farmer,  and  here  I  became  familiar  with  all  the 
operations  of  both  mill  and  farm.  I  accompanied  my  cousin 
Tommy  Ward  in  the  fields  when  he  was  ploughing  or  sowing, 
and  in  the  barn  when  he  was  thrashing  or  winnowing  the  corn, 
and  I  well  remember  a  grand  husking  party  (or  "  frolic,"  as  it 
was  called),  when  the  neighbours  for  miles  round  came  to  assist 
in  stripping  the  Indian  corn  of  its  outer  covering,  and  afterwards 
sat  down  to  a  most  substantial  supper.  To  the  imagery  treasured 
in  my  recollection  of  these  simple  scenes,  I  believe  I  owe  much 
of  the  exquisite  enjoyment  I  receive  from  reading  the  poetry  of 
Burns.  His  "  Hallowe'en,"  his  "  Twa  Dogs,"  and  other  poems, 
in  which  the  labours  and  enjoyments  of  the  cottage  are  described, 
always  transport  me  to  the  log-houses  of  my  kind-hearted  uncles 
and  aunts  in  Chester  county. 

From  my  infancy* I  had  been  fond  of  drawing,  and  when  old 
enough  to  think  of  a  profession,  I  wished  to  be  a  painter.  But 
my  mother  had  no  means  of  giving  me  a  painter's  education, 
though  1  believe  she  thought  at  one  time  of  placing  me  with  an 
engraver.  This  notion  was  however  abandoned,  and  in  the  year 
1808  I  was  bound  apprentice  to  Messrs.  Bradford  and  Inskeep, 
Booksellers.  Samuel  T.  Bradford,  the  senior  partner,  was  at  that 
time  the  most  enterprising  publisher  in  Philadelphia.  While  I 
was  under  his  care  he  treated  me  with  the  kindness  of  a  father, 
but  was  strict  in  exacting  from  me  attention  to  business.  If  lie 
found  me  drawing  when  I  should  have  been  otherwise  engaged, 
he  shook  his  head  and  seemed  so  much  displeased,  that  the  most 
distant  hope  of  his  ever  assisting  me  to  become  a  painter  never 
entered  my  mind.  The  circumstance  which  changed  his  opinion 
and  fixed  my  destiny  grew  out  of  the  arrival  in  America  of  the 
celebrated  actor,  George  Frederick  Cooke.  The  excitement  pro- 
duced among  play-going  people  on  his  first  appearance  in  Phila- 


CHAP.  II.] 


GEORGE  FREDERICK  COOKE. 


17 


delphia  was  most  extraordinary.  —  He  was  to  play  Richard  on  a 
Monday  night,  and  on  the  Sunday  evening  the  steps  of  the  theatre 
were  covered  with  groups  of  porters,  and  other  men  of  the  lower 
orders,  prepared  to  spend  the  night  there,  that  they  might  have 
the  first  chance  of  taking  places  in  the  boxes.  I  saw  some  of 
them  take  their  hats  off  and  put  on  nightcaps.  At  ten  o'clock  the 
next  morning  the  door  was  opened  to  them,  and  at  that  time  the 
street  in  front  of  the  theatre  was  impassable.  When  the  rush 
took  place,  I  saw  a  man  spring  up  and  catch  hold  of  the  iron 
which  supported  a  lamp  on  one  side  of  the  door,  by  which  he 
raised  himself  so  as  to  run  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  into  the 
theatre.  Some  of  these  fellows  were  hired  by  gentlemen  to  secure 
places,  and  others  took  boxes  on  speculation,  sure  of  selling  them 
at  double  or  treble  the  regular  prices.  When  the  time  came  for 
opening  the  doors  in  the  evening,  the  crowd  was  so  tumultuous 
that  it  was  evident  there  was  little  certainty  that  the  holders  of 
box-tickets  would  obtain  their  places,  and  for  ladies  the  attempt 
would  be  dangerous.  A  placard  was  therefore  displayed,  stating, 
that  all  persons  who  had  tickets  would  be  admitted  at  the  stage 
door  before  the  front  doors  were  opened.  This  notice  soon  drew 
such  a  crowd  to  the  back  of  the  theatre,  that  when  Cooke  arrived 
he  could  not  get  in.  He  was  on  foot,  with  Dunlap,  one  of  the 
New  York  managers,  and  he  was  obliged  to  make  himself  known 
before  he  could  be  got  through  the  press.  "  I  am  like  the  man 
going  to  be  hanged,"  he  said,  "  who  told  the  crowd  they  would 
have  no  fun  unless  they  made  way  for  him." 

I  should  have  had  little  chance  of  seeing  him  that  night  but 
for  a  friend  in  the  theatre,  Tom  Reinagle,  a  lad  of  my  own 
age,  and  one  of  the  assistant  scene  painters.  He  obtained  me 
a  place  in  the  flies,  as  a  kind  of  gallery  just  over  the  stage  is 
called,  and  from  that  eminence  I  first  saw  George  Frederick 
Cooke,  the  best  Richard  since  Garrick,  and  who  has  not  been 
surpassed  even  by  Edmund  Kean.  Cooke  had  seen  Garrick, 
and  no  doubt  this  was  much  to  his  advantage. 

The  other  characters  in  which  I  saw  him  were  Lear,  Shy- 
lock,  Falstaff,  Iago,  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  Sir  Pertinax  Mac 
Sycophant,  and  Sir  Archy  Mac  Sarcasm  ;  and  I  have  a  perfect 
recollection  of  him  in  all.  I  thought  Edmund  Kean  inferior 
2 


18 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  II. 


to  him  in  Lear,  but  in  Sir  Giles  Overreach  superior,  particu- 
larly in  the  last  scene.  I  was  told  by  Bannister  that  Cooke's 
Fahtaff  was  much  below  Henderson's,  but  it  certainly  was 
above  any  other  Fahtaff  I  ever  saw ;  and  his  Mac  Sycophant 
and  Mac  Sarcasm  were  perfection.  I  think  of  him  always  with 
particular  interest,  not  only  as  one  of  the  very  few  really  great 
tragic  actors  I  have  seen,  but  as  the  cause  of  my  coming  to 
England. 

I  dined  once  in  company  with  him  at  the  fish-house  on  the 
banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  with  a  club  of  gentlemen  who,  in  the 
summer  months,  resorted  there  to  fish.  Cooke's  manners,  when 
sober,  were  perfect,  and  I  came  away  before  he  got  drunk.  % 

I  had  served  three  years  of  my  time  at  the  bookselling  busi- 
ness when  a  likeness  which  I  made  of  Cooke  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  some  of  my  friends,  and  Mr.  Bradford  became  of  opinion 
that  I  might  succeed  as  an  artist.  From  that  moment  he  en- 
couraged my  attempts  at  drawing,  as  much  as  he  had  before 
discouraged  them.  Mr.  Clibborn,  an  Irish  gentleman,  and  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Bradford,  who  had  often  honoured  me  with  his 
notice  while  I  was  behind  the  counter,  carried  the  sketch  of 
Cooke  to  the  Exchange  Coffee  House  at  the  hour  when  it  was 
most  frequented  by  the  merchants ;  the  attempt  was  thought 
surprising  for  a. boy,  and  in  a  few  hours  my  feme  was  spread 
among  the  wealthiest  men  in  the  city.  Mr.  Bradford  therefore 
found  no  difficulty  in  raising  a  fund  by  subscription,  to  which 
he  contributed  liberally  himself,  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  study 
painting  two  years  in  Europe. 

As  to  the  little  likeness  of  Cooke,  there  was  nothing  very 
wonderful  in  it,  I  had  studied  over  and  over  again  the  pic- 
tures in  Peale's  Museum,  having  had  access  to  it  at  all  times, 
in  consequence  of  the  intimacy  between  my  father  and  the  very 
ingenious  proprietor.  I  was  not  acquainted  with  Mr.  Sully,  the 
best  painter  in  Philadelphia,  but  I  never  passed  his  door  with- 
out running  up  into  his  show-room  (which  was  at  all  times 
accessible),  and  spending  as  much  time  there  as  I  had  to  spare. 
The  windows  of  the  print-shops  were  also  so  many  academies 
to  me,  and  often  detained  me  so  long  when  I  was  sent  on 
errands,  that  I  was  obliged,  on  leaving  them,  to  run  as  fast  as 


CHAP.  II.] 


DEPARTURE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


10 


possible  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  When  all  this  is  consid- 
ered, and  also  that  I  took  an  uncommon  interest  (even  for  a 
boy)  in  everything  relating  to  the  stage,  and  that  I  shared  fully 
in  the  excitement  produced  by  the  arrival  of  such  an  actor  as 
Cooke  in  America,  it  would,  I  think,  have  been  more  surpris- 
ing had  I  failed  in  the  attempt  to  make  a  likeness  of  him  from 
recollection,  than  that  I  should,  to  a  certain  degree,  have  suc- 
ceeded. 

Luckily,  however,  for  me,  my  drawing  was  thought  wonder- 
ful ;  and  my  liberal  friend,  Mr.  Bradford,  determined  to  send  me 
to  England,  under  the  care  of  his  partner  and  brother-in-law, 
Mr.  Inskeep,  who  was  about  to  sail  for  London  on  business. 

Before  I  left  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Sully,  with  whom  I  had  be- 
come acquainted,  gave  me  the  first  lesson  I  received  in  oil- 
painting.  He  began  a  copy  of  a  picture  in  my  presence,  and 
then  put  his  palette  and  brushes  into  my  hand,  telling  me  to 
proceed  in  the  same  way  with  a  copy  of  my  own.  The  next 
day  he  carried  his  work  further,  and  I  again  followed  him,  and 
so  on,  until  the  copies  were  both  finished  ;  thus  explaining  to 
me  at  once  the  processes  of  scumbling,  glazing,  &c. 

Sully  gave  me  letters  to  Mr.  West,  Sir  William  Beechey,  Mr. 
Charles  King,  and  other  artists;  and  thus  provided,  I  sailed 
from  New  York  on  the  11th  of  November,  1811,  and,  after  a 
short  and  pleasant  passage,  arrived  at  Liverpool  on  the  3rd  of 
December.  Notwithstanding  the  gloomy  season  of  the  year,  I 
entered  London  with  such  feelings  as  we  can  experience,  per- 
haps, but  once  in  our  lives.  It  was  my  birth-place,  and  my 
earliest  recollections  belonged  to  it.  I  had  a  kind  of  dreamy 
remembrance  of  the  magnificence  of  St.  Paul's,  and  the  splen- 
dour of  the  Lord  Mayor's  show.  The  novels  of  Miss  Burney, 
and  the  "Picture  of  London,"  had  made  me  acquainted  with 
its  chief  objects  of  interest,  and  I  had  often  amused  myself  with 
tracing  its  localities  on  the  maps.  Familiar  with  the  engraved 
works  of  Hogarth,  the  very  purlieus  of  St.  Giles's,  from  whence 
his  backgrounds  are  so  frequently  taken,  possessed  to  my  im- 
agination the  charm  of  classic  ground. 

For  the  last  three  years  I  had  enjoyed  opportunities  of  see- 
ing all  the  most  interesting  books  as  they  arrived  from  England 


20 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  II. 


in  the  bloom  of  novelty.  The  talk  of  the  literary  men  who 
frequented  Mr.  Bradford's  shop,  was  often  of  London  and  its 
wonders.  I  knew  the  names  and  styles  of  the  principal  English 
artists  from  the  many  engravings  I  had  opportunities  of  seeing. 
Passionately  fond  of  the  theatre,  I  knew  that  Kemble,  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons,  Mrs.  Jordan,  Bannister,  Dowton,  and  Munden  were  still 
on  the  stage;  and  I  had  heard  of  Liston,  Matthews,  and  Emery, 
who  were  then  in  the  meridian  of  their  glory.  I  had  seen  one 
of  the  finest  of  West's  pictures  (his  "Lear  in  the  Storm"),  and 
I  was  to  see  and  know  the  great  artist  himself.  All  this  to 
a  boy  of  sixteen,  and  of  such  tastes  as  I  have  described,  could 
not  but  afford  anticipations  of  the  most  intoxicating  delight.  Nor 
did  the  reality  fall  short  of  the  anticipation. 

For  a  few  days  I  was  at  the  London  Coffee  House,  on  Lud- 
gate  Hill,  with  Mr.  Inskeep  and  other  Americans.  I  delivered 
my  letters  to  Mr.  West,  and  was  kindly  received  by  him.  I 
visited  the  galleries  of  artists,  the  theatres,  and  the  other  prin- 
cipal objects  of  attraction  to  strangers,  and 

"  Such  sober  certainty  of  waking  bliss 
I  never  knew  'till  now." 

But  these  enjoyments  were  soon  interrupted  by  a  severe  ill- 
ness, which  confined  me  to  my  room  in  the  hotel.  I  was  soli- 
tary, and  began  to  find  that  even  in  London  it  was  possible  to 
be  unhappy.  I  did  not,  however,  feel  this  in  its  full  force  until 
I  was  settled  in  lodgings,  consisting  of  two  desolate-looking  rooms 
up  two  pair  of  stairs,  in  Warren  Street,  Fitzroy  Square.  My 
new  acquaintances,  Allston,  King,  and  Morse  were  very  kind, 
but  still  they  were  new  acquaintances.  I  thought  of  the  happy 
circle  round  my  mother's  fireside,  and  there  were  moments  in 
which,  but  for  my  obligations  to  Mr.  Bradford  and  my  other 
kind  patrons,  I  could  have  been  content  to  forfeit  all  the  advan- 
tages I  expected  from  my  visit  to  England,  and  return  imme- 
diately to  America.  The  two  years  I  was  to  remain  in  London 
seemed,  in  prospect,  an  age. 

Mr.  Morse,  who  was  but  a  year  or  two  older  than  myself,  and 
who  had  been  in  London  but  six  months  when  I  arrived,  felt 
very  much  as  I  did,  and  we  agreed  to  take  apartments  together. 


CHAP.  II.] 


VISITS  TO  THE  THEATEE. 


21 


For  some  time  we  painted  in  the  same  room,  he  at  one  window 
and  I  at  the  other.  We  drew  at  the  Royal  Academy  in  the 
evening,  and  worked  at  home  in  the  day.  Our  Mentors  were 
AlLston  and  King ;  nor  could  we  have  been  better  provided : 
Allston,  a  most  amiable  and  polished  gentleman,  and  a  painter 
of  the  purest  taste ;  and  King,  warm-hearted,  sincere,  sensible, 
prudent,  and  the  strictest  of  economists.  These  gentlemen  were 
our  seniors;  our  most  intimate  associates  of  our  own  age  were 
some  young  Bostonians,  students  of  medicine,  who  were  walking 
the  hospitals,  and  attending  the  lectures  of  Cline,  Cooper,  and 
Abernethy.  With  them  we  often  encountered  the  tremendous 
crowds  that  besieged  the  doors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  when 
John  Kemble  and  Mrs.  Siddons  played.  It  was  the  last  season 
in  which  the  public  were  to  be  gratified  with  the  performance 
of  the  greatest  actress  that  ever  trod  the  stage,  and  we  practised 
the  closest  economy  that  we  might  afford  the  expense  of  seeing 
her  often.  In  the  acting  of  Mrs.  Siddons  and  John  Kemble,  I 
remember  particularly  (perhaps  because  it  was  somewhat  unex- 
pected) the  grace  with  which  they  could  descend  from  the  state- 
liness  of  tragedy  to  the  easy  manner  of  familiar  life.  The  scene 
jn  which  Mrs.  Siddons,  as  Volumnia,  sat  sewing  with  Virg*ilia, 
and  the  subsequent  scene  with  Valeria,  and  in  Hamlet,  the  man- 
ner in  which  John  Kemble  gave  the  conversations  with  the 
players,  were  beautiful  instances  of  this.  These  passages  are 
not  comic ;  but  both  brother  and  sister,  in  giving  them,  indicated 
the  perfection  of  genteel  comedy.  Perhaps  it  is  the  highest 
praise  of  such  acting  to  say,  that  it  was  truly  Shakespearian, 
and  made  one  feel,  still  more  than  in  reading  the  plays,  the  value 
of  such  scenes.  In  the  "Winter's  Tale,"  also,  the  by-play  of 
Leontes  with  the  child  Mamillius,  while  he  is  jealously  watching 
Hermione  and  Polixenes,  was  marked  by  John  Kemble  with  the 
same  fine  tact ;  and  the  manner  in  which  Mrs.  Siddons,  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  dismissed  the  guests  from  the  banquet  scene,  has  often 
been  noticed  among  the  minor  beauties  of  her  acting.  After 
her  retirement  from  the  stage  she  was  fond  of  adverting  to  her 
theatrical  career,  and  in  a  conversation  on  this  subject  she  said 
to  my  friend  Newton,  "  /  was  an  honest  actress,  and  at  all  times 
in  all  things  endeavoured  to  do  my  best." 


22 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  II. 


I  thought  the  Falconhridge  of  Charles  Kemble  as  perfect  as 
the  Coriolanus  of  his  brother  John.  Nature,  as  well  as  art, 
had  admirably  adapted  the  brothers  for  these  two  characters. 
Charles,  then  young,  possessed  a  heroic  face  and  figure,  and 
the  spirit  he  threw  into  the  reputed  son  of  Cceur  de  Lion,  as 
he  played  the  character,  was  too  natural  not  to  be  his  own ; 
while  the  impatience  of  plebeian  dictation  as  certainly  belonged 
to  John  Kemble  as  his  noble  Roman  countenance :  indeed,  I  can 
imagine  no  other  Coriolanus  or  Brutus.  The  cast  of  parts  at 
that  period  was  glorious.  In  the  "  Winter's  Tale  "  we  had  John, 
and  Charles  Kemble,  and  Mrs.  Siddons ;  with  Fawcett  in  Au- 
tolycus,  Liston  in  the  Clown,  Blanchard  in  the  old  Shepherd, 
and  Mrs.  Harry  Johnstone  (a  beautiful  creature),  in  Perdita. 
It  says  much  for  the  company  of  Drury  Lane  that  they  could 
attempt  to  compete  with  that  of  Covent  Garden.  The  former 
had  Bannister,  Munden,  and  Dowton,  and  attracted  full  houses 
at  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  where  they  played  while  Drury  Lane 
was  rebuilding. 

My  first  instructors  in  painting  were  Mr.  West  and  Mr.  All- 
ston.  They  permitted  me  at  all  times  to  see  the  works  they 
were  engaged  on,  and  were  ever  ready  to  give  me  advice  and 
assistance  in  the  pictures  I  attempted,  which  were  then  chiefly 
portraits  of  the  size  of  life.  It  was  Allston  who  first  awakened 
what  little  sensibility  I  may  possess  to  the  beauties  of  colour. 
He  first  directed  my  attention  to  the  Venetian  school,  particu- 
larly to  the  works  of  Paul  Veronese,  and  taught  me  to  see, 
through  the  accumulated  dirt  of  ages,  the  exquisite  charm  that 
lay  beneath.  Yet,  for  a  long  time,  I  took  the  merit  of  the  Vene- 
tians on  trust,  and,  if  left  to  myself,  should  have  preferred  works 
which  I  now  feel  to  be  comparatively  worthless.  I  remember 
when  the  picture  of  "  The  Ages,"  by  Titian,  was  first  pointed 
out  to  me  by  Allston  as  an  exquisite  work,  I  thought  he  was 
laughing  at  me.  It  is  but  fair  to  myself,  however,  to  say,  that 
from  the  first  I  was  delighted  with  the  RafFaelles  in  the  same 
collection  (the  Bridgwater). 

Mr.  West  gave  me  a  note  to  Fuseli,  whose  authority  was  at 
that  time  sufficient  to  admit  me  to  draw  in  the  Royal  Acad- 
emy as  a  probationer.    I  also  became  a  student  of  the  Townley 


CHAP  II.] 


ALLSTON  AND  COLERIDGE. 


23 


Marbles  in  the  British  Museum,  and  through  the  introduction  of 
Mr.  West  I  had  access  to  the  Elgin  Marbles,  then  deposited  in  a 
temporary  building  in  the  garden  of  Burlington  House.  Morse 
and  I  studied  there  from  six  till  eight  o'clock  in  the  summer 
mornings,  and  I  copied  several  pictures  at  Mr.  West's  house, 
where  I  had  the  constant  benefit  of  the  advice  of  the  venerable 
and  truly  amiable  President. 

I  think  it  was  during  the  second  year  of  my  residence  in  Lon- 
don that  Allston's  health  became  seriously  affected;  and,  as 
change  of  air  was  recommended,  he  determined  to  visit  Bristol, 
where  he  had  an  uncle  living,  who  hearing  of  his  state  had  ad- 
vised him  to  try  the  air  of  Clifton.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allston  left 
London,  accompanied  by  Morse  and  myself ;  but  when  we 
reached  Salt  Hill,  Allston  became  too  ill  to  proceed,  and  it  was 
determined  that  Morse  should  return  to  town  and  acquaint  Cole- 
ridge with  the  circumstance.  He  was  affectionately  attached  to 
Allston,  and  came  to  Salt  Hill  the  same  afternoon,  accompanied 
by  his  friend  Dr.  Tathill.  He  stayed  at  the  Inn  for  the  few  days 
that  Allston  was  confined  there.  The  house  was  so  full  that  the 
poet  was  obliged  to  share  a  double-bedded  room  with  me.  We 
were  kept  up  late  in  consequence  of  the  critical  condition  of  All- 
ston, and,  when  we  retired,  Coleridge  seeing  a  copy  of  "  Knick- 
erbocker's History  of  New  York"  (which  I  had  brought  with 
me)  laying  on  the  table,  took  it  up  and  began  reading.  I  went 
to  bed,  and  I  think  he  must  have  sate  up  the  greater  part  of  the 
night,  for  the  next  day  I  found  he  had  nearly  got  through  Knick- 
erbocker. This  was  many  years  before  it  was  published  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  work  was  of  course  entirely  new  to  him.  He  was 
delighted  with  it. 

I  had  seen  Coleridge  before,  but  it  was  on  this  occasion  that 
my  acquaintance  commenced  with  this  most  extraordinary  man, 
of  whom  it  might  be  said,  as  truly  as  of  Burke,  that  "  his  stream 
of  mind  was  perpetual."  His  eloquence  threw  a  new  and  beau- 
tiful light  on  most  subjects,  and  when  he  was  beyond  my  compre- 
hension, the  melody  of  his  voice,  and  the  impressiveness  of  his 
manner  held  me  a  willing  listener,  and  I  was  nattered  at  being 
supposed  capable  of  understanding  him.  Indeed,  men  far  ad- 
vanced beyond  myself  in  education  might  have  felt  as  children  in 
his  presence. 


24 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  h. 


Luckily  for  me  he  could  not  help  talking,  be  he  where  or  with 
whom  he  might,  and  I  shall  ever  regret  that  I  did  not  take  notes, 
imperfect  as  they  must  have  been,  of  what  he  said.  I  can  only 
now  remember,  that  besides  speaking  much  of  Allston,  whom  he 
loved  dearly,  he  gave  an  admirable  analysis  of  the  character  of 
Don  Quixote.  He  said,  "  there  are  two  kinds  of  madness ;  in 
the  one,  the  object  pursued  is  a  sane  one,  the  madness  discover- 
ing itself  only  in  the  means  by  which  it  is  to  be  gained.  In  the 
other,  an  insane  intention  is  aimed  at  or  compassed  by  means 
that  the  soundest  mind  would  employ,  as  in  cases  of  murder, 
suicide,  etc.  The  madness  of  Don  Quixote  is  of  the  first  class, 
his  intention  being  always  to  do  good,  and  his  delusion  only  as  to 
the  mode  of  accomplishing  his  object." 

It  was  said  of  Coleridge  by  one  who  knew  him  intimately,  and 
was  indeed  one  of  his  most  active  friends,  that  "  he  was  a  good 
man,  but  whenever  anything  presented  itself  to  him  in  the  shape 
of  a  moral  duty  he  was  utterly  incapable  of  performing  it."  He 
had,  no  doubt,  great  faults  and  weaknesses,  but  this  was  unques- 
tionably a  sweeping  exaggeration,  uttered  perhaps  in  a  moment 
of  irritation.  At  Salt  Hill,  and  on  some  other  occasions,  I  wit- 
nessed his  performance  of  the  duties  of  friendship  in  a  manner 
which  few  men  of  his  constitutional  indolence  could  have  roused 
themselves  to  equal. 

I  accompanied  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allston  to  Clifton,  where  I  spent 
a  fortnight  with  them,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  leave  our  patient 
convalescent  under  the  care  of  Mr.  King,  to  whom  Coleridge 
had  procured  him  a  letter  from  Southey.  To  this  eminent  sur- 
geon (under  Providence)  Allston  believed  he  owed  his  life. 
During  the  gradual  cure  of  his  painful  disorder,  he  was,  how- 
ever, subject  to  a  great  deal  of  annoyance  from  his  uncle,  Mr. 
Vanderhorst,  of  a  nature  to  be  severely  felt  in  his  weak  and 
nervous  state ;  and  never,  perhaps,  did  one  kind-hearted  man 
torment  another  more. 

Among  one  or  two  other  prejudices,  Mr.  Vanderhorst  cherished 
an  inveterate  animosity  against  doctors.  "  Don't  let  one  of  those 
rascals  enter  your  door,"  was  the  burthen  of  his  first  visit  to  his 
suffering  nephew.  "  Follow  my  advice,  live  well,  and  trust  to 
the  air  of  Clifton.    You  see  how  well  I  am,"  —  he  had  only  the 


CHAP.  II.] 


VISIT  TO  CLIFTON. 


25 


gout,  —  "  and  how  healthy  all  my  family  are,  and  this  is  because 
we  never  let  a  doctor  come  near  us."  At  the  very  moment  in 
which  this  advice  was  inflicted  on  the  patient,  we  were  expecting 
the  arrival  of  Mr.  King.  Mr.  Vanderhorst  luckily  left  before 
the  doctor  came ;  but  as  the  latter  visited  Allston  regularly  twice 
a  day,  and  Mr.  Vanderhorst  or  one  of  his  family  called  often,  our 
apprehensions  of  a  collision,  or  at  least  a  discovery  of  what  was 
going  on,  were  unceasing.  In  the  mean  time  Allston's  gradual 
recovery  was  evident,  and  Mr.  Vanderhorst  took  the  whole  credit 
of  it  to  himself. 

While  I  was  at  Clifton,  Coleridge  very  unexpectedly  arrived 
and  engaged  to  give  a  course  of  lectures  on  Milton  and  Shake- 
speare. I  heard  three  of  them,  and  here  again  the  regret  arises 
that  I  took  no  notes.  In  a  letter  I  wrote  at  the  time,  and  which 
has  since  been  returned  to  me,  I  find  the  following  passage:  — 
"  His  object,  he  says,  is  not  to  show,  what  everybody  acknowl- 
edges, that  Shakespeare  and  Milton  were  men  of  great  genius,  but 
to  efface  the  impression,  that  because  their  genius  was  great,  they 
must  necessarily  have  great  faults,  and  to  prove  that  their  judg- 
ment was  equal  to  their  genius  ;  —  in  other  words,  that  neither  of 
them  was  an  inspired  idiot?  "  He  has  given  me,"  I  added,  "  a 
much  more  distinct  and  satisfactory  view  of  the  nature  and  ends 
of  poetry,  and  of  painting,  than  I  ever  had  before." 

I  was  now  admitted  a  student  in  the  Antique  Academy  of 
which  Fuseli  was  the  keeper.  I  had  been  impressed  with  the 
greatest  respect  for  his  genius,  both  as  a  painter  and  a  writer, 
before  I  left  America.  The  engraving  from  his  "  Hamlet  and 
the  Ghost "  had  scared  me  from  the  window  of  a  print  shop  in 
Philadelphia,  and  I  still  contemplate  that  matchless  spectre  with 
something  of  the  same  awe  which  it  then  inspired.  I  hoped  for 
much  advantage  from  studying  under  such  a  master,  but  he  said 
little  in  the  Academy.  He  generally  came  into  the  room  once  in 
the  course  of  every  evening,  and  rarely  without  a  book  in  his 
hand.  He  would  take  any  vacant  place  among  the  students,  and 
sit  reading  nearly  the  whole  time  he  stayed  with  us.  I  believe 
he  was  right.  For  those  students  who  are  born  with  powers  that 
will  make  them  eminent,  it  is  sufficient  to  place  fine  works  of  art 
before  them.    They  do  not  want  instruction,  and  those  that  do  are 


26 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  II. 


not  worth  it.  Art  may  be  learnt,  but  can't  be  taught.  Under 
Fuseli's  wise  neglect,  Wilkie,  Mulready,  Etty,  Landseer,  and 
Haydon  distinguished  themselves,  and  were  the  better  for  not  be- 
ing made  all  alike  by  teaching,  if  indeed  that  could  have  been  done. 

I  obtained  two  silver  medals  in  the  Academy,  and,  Mr.  West 
being  indisposed,  I  received  them  on  both  occasions  from  the 
hand  of  Fuseli.  The  first  was  for  a  drawing  from  the  Laocoon ; 
Fuseli  had  ordered  that  we  should  draw  the  principal  figure  only : 
but  as,  from  the  number  of  competitors,  I  could  obtain  no  other 
seat  than  one  from  which  part  of  the  father  was  hidden  by  one 
of  the  boys,  I  asked  him  if  I  might  introduce  that  boy.  He  ob- 
jected. I  urged  that  I  could  not  draw  the  limb  that  was  hidden, 
except  from  imagination,  and  again  I  begged  him  to  let  me  put  in 
the  boy.  He  replied,  "  if  you  draw  one  you  must  draw  both,  and 
I  won't  have  an  ape  and  two  monkeys,"  —  alluding  to  the  carica- 
ture of  the  group,  by  Titian. 

The  other  drawing  for  which  I  received  a  medal  was  from  the 
life,  and  the  figure  was  set  by  Flaxman.  I  value  my  medals, 
therefore,  the  more  as  being  associated  with  my  recollections  of 
these  two  great  artists. 

One  evening,  in  the  Life  Academy,  while  Westmacott  was 
visitor,  Fuseli  came  in,  and  I  heard  part  of  an  argument  between 
them  on  the  merits  of  the  Elgin  Marbles.  Fuseli  had  never 
fully  shared  in  the  enthusiasm  with  which  Mr.  West  and  other 
artists  hailed  their  arrival  in  England.  It  was  the  fashion  with 
some  of  them  (not  with  Mr.  West,  I  think,)  to  praise  the  Elgin 
Marbles  as  superior  even  to  the  Apollo.  To  some  remark  of 
Westmacott,  in  praise  of  the  Theseus,  Fuseli  replied  : 

"  The  Apollo  is  a  god,  the  man  in  the  Mews  is  a  demi-god,* 
and  the  Theseus  is  a  man." 

"  You  will  admit,"  said  Westmacott,  "  that  he  is  a  hero  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Fuseli,  "  he  is  only  a  strong  man." 

Edwin  Landseer,  who  entered  the  Academy  very  early,  and 
was  a  pretty  little  curly-headed  boy,  attracted  Fuseli's  attention 
by  his  talents  and  gentle  manners.  Fuseli  would  look  round  for 
him,  and  say,  "  Where  is  my  little  dog  boy  ?  " 

*  A  cast  from  the  collossal  figure  of  the  Monte  Cavallo,  then  exhibited  in 
the  King's  Mews. 


CHAP.  II.] 


FUSELI. 


27 


Allan  Cunningham  has  said  truly  that  Fuseli  was  liked  by  the 
students,  notwithstanding  the  occasional  violence  of  his  temper. 
I  have  no  recollection,  however,  of  his  being  near-sighted,  as  this 
biographer  asserts.  On  the  contrary,  my  impression  is,  that  his 
sight  was  remarkably  good  at  any  distance.  He  was  ambi-dex- 
trous,  and  generally  corrected  our  drawings  with  his  left  hand. 
Harlowe's  small  portrait  of  him  is  the  most  like  :  but  it  would 
have  required  a  Reynolds  to  do  justice  to  the  intelligence  of  his 
fine  head.  His  keen  eye,  of  the  most  transparent  blue,  I  shall 
never  forget. 

None  of  his  peculiarities,  either  as  a  man  or  a  painter,  pre- 
vented his  being  a  great  favourite  among  ladies.  He  was  fond 
of  female  society,  and  at  the  theatre,  particularly,  as  I  was  told 
by  a  lady  who  knew  him  intimately,  he  was  a  truly  delightful 
companion.  He  was  most  fond  of  those  nights  when  the  plays 
of  Shakespeare  formed  the  entertainment,  and  on  such  occasions 
his  deep  knowledge  and  enthusiastic  admiration  of  the  poet,  as 
well  as  his  own  wit,  rendered  the  intervals  between  the  acts  as 
agreeable  to  his  companions  as  the  time  occupied  in  the  perform- 
ance. As  the  influence  of  women  softened  his  temper  and  called 
forth  all  his  powers  of  pleasing,  it  is  not  surprising  that  Mary 
Wolstonecraft  fell  in  love  with  him  when  he  was  fifty,  or  that 
more  than  one  lady  felt  for  him  something  akin  to  love  in  the 
very  last  years  of  his  life. 

The  first  large  picture  I  attempted  was  of  Saul  and  the  Witch 
of  Endor.  West  greatly  assisted  me  in  the  composition,  calling 
frequently  at  my  room  while  I  was  about  it.  When  the  picture 
was  done  I  sent  it  to  the  British  Gallery  for  exhibition  ;  but,  as 
it  was  not  varnished,  it  appeared  unfinished,  and  was  turned  out. 
Mr.  West  desired  me  to  carry  it  to  his  house,  where  I  varnished 
it  in  his  large  room,  and  there,  by  his  kind  influence,  it  was  soon 
purchased  by  Sir  John  Leicester,*  who  gave  me  a  hundred 
guineas  for  it. 

Allston  was  now  in  London  again.    His  own  health  was  re- 
established, but  that  of  his  excellent  wife  was  much  impaired. 
They  had  taken  a  house  and  furnished  it,  having  till  now  lived  in 
lodgings,  and  had  but  just  removed  when  her  illness  suddenly 
*  Afterwards  Lord  de  Tabley. 


28 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  II. 


increased,  and  she  died  in  two  or  three  days.  In  fact,  after  tak- 
ing possession  of  her  new  home,  she  never  recrossed  the  thresh- 
old alive.  She  was  a  sister  of  Dr.  Channing,  of  whom  I  often 
heard  her  speak  before  he  was  known  in  England.  She  was 
never  tired  of  talking  of  "  that  little  saint,  William,"  as  she  called 
him.  The  very  clay  of  which  the  Channings  were  formed 
seemed  to  have  religion  in  its  composition.  Mrs.  Allston  told 
me  that  her  brother,  when  a  child,  used  to  turn  a  chair  into  a 
pulpit  and  preach  little  sermons  to  the  other  children  of  the  fam- 
ily. I  saw  Channing  often  during  his  short  stay  in  London  — 
and  to  see  was  to  love  him.  At  his  request,  I  accompanied  him 
to  the  burying-ground  of  St.  Pancras  Chapel,  to  show  him  his 
sister's  grave.  After  the  death  of  his  wife,  Allston  quitted  his 
house  and  hired  apartments  at  No.  8,  Buckingham  Place,  Fitz- 
roy  Square,  where  Morse  and  myself  lodged. 

In  September,  1817,  I  went  with  Allston  and  William  Collins 
to  Paris.  We  all  made  studies  in  the  Louvre,  and  visited  the 
houses  of  the  principal  artists,  though  Gerard  was  the  only  one 
with  whom  we  had  an  interview,  and  he,  though  he  received  us 
very  politely,  did  not  show  us  any  of  his  pictures.  Of  the  mod- 
ern French  pictures  we  did  see  we  were  most  pleased  with  those 
of  Guerin.  His  "  Dido  and  JEneas  "  was  just  then  completed, 
and  a  picture  of  La  Roche  Jacquelin  heading  a  charge  of  Ven- 
deans.  I  was  asked  by  a  French  lady  how  I  liked  the  great 
works  of  David  —  the  "  Romans  and  Sabines  "  and  the  "  Leoni- 
das."    I  said  I  did  not  think  them  natural. 

"  Not  natural ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  assure  you  he  never 
paints  any  object  whatever  without  having  nature  before  him." 

I  could  have  told  her,  had  it  been  worth  while  to  pursue  the 
argument,  that  many  an  artist  paints  with  nature  before  him  with- 
out pairKing  naturally.  Many  a  one  paints  from  nature  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  Irishman,  who  was  mistaken  for  a  Scotchman, 
said  he  was  "from  Scotland  —  a  great  way  from  Scotland, 
thanks  be  to  God  for  that  same  ! " 

We  found  that  Wilkie's  reputation  was,  at  that  time,  very  high 
in  France.  " I  like  your  Vilhes,  but  I  don't  like  your  Vest"  said 
a  Frenchman  to  me. 

Being  employed  to  paint  some  portraits  of  Americans  in  Paris, 


chap,  it.]     COLERIDGE'S  LECTURES  ON  SHAKESPEARE. 


29 


I  remained  there  three  months,  and  then  returned  to  London,  in 
company  with  Stuart  Newton,  whom  I  met  in  Paris  for  the  first 
time.  He.  was  on  his  way  from  Italy  to  England,  and  he  and  I 
made  an  excursion  through  Brussels  and  Antwerp,  where  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  dining  at  the  house  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Clibborn', 
whose  exertions  for  me  in  Philadelphia  had,  in  a  great  measure, 
led  to  my  becoming  a  painter. 

Washington  Irving  was  in  England,  but  at  Liverpool,  occupied 
with  business ;  the  mercantile  house  to  which  he  belonged  being 
at  that  time  in  a  state  of  embarrassment  which  led  to  a  bank- 
ruptcy. When  this  took  place,  Irving,  after  a  short  excursion  to 
Scotland,  where  he  became  known  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  came  to 
London  with  the  intention  of  exerting  himself  as  an  author, 
though  with  no  expectation  of  becoming  popular  in  England. 
The  "  Sketch  Book  "  was  written  solely  with  a  view  to  publica- 
tion in  America,  where  "  Salmagundi,"  and  "  Knickerbocker " 
had  gained  him  a  high  reputation. 

Morse  had  returned  to  America,  and  Allston  soon  after  fol- 
lowed him.  The  best  picture  the  latter  left  in  England  was  his 
"  Jacob's  Dream,"  at  Petworth.  It  was  bought  by  Lord  Egre- 
mont,  who  invited  the  artist  to  Petworth,  and  would,  no  doubt, 
have  employed  him  on  other  works,  if  he  had  remained  in  this 
country.  The  friends  with  whom  I  now  spent  most  of  my  lei- 
sure were  Irving  and  Newton. 

I  had  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing  and  hearing  Coleridge. 
He  delivered  a  course  of  lectures  on  Shakespeare,  to  which  he 
gave  me  tickets,  but  I  was  sorry  to  see  his  London  audiences 
much  smaller  than  those  at  Bristol.  The  following  note  from 
him  marks  the  date  of  these  lectures. 

"  Highgate. 

"My  dear  Leslie, 

"  Mr.  Colburn  has  entreated  my  influence  with  you  to  have  in- 
trusted to  him  for  a  week  or  ten  days  your  last  drawing  of  my 
phiz  to  have  it  engraved  for  his  Magazine.  I  replied  that  I  had 
no  objection,  and  thought  it  probable  that  you  would  have  none, 
and  have  in  consequence  given  him  this  note. 

"  You  see,  alas  !  by  my  scanty  audiences  that  there  cannot  be 


30 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  II. 


the  least  objection  to  your  taking  with  you  half  a  dozen  friends 
to  my  lectures,  who  are  like  ourselves,  with  more  in  our  brains 
than  in  our  pockets.  Why,  my  dear  Leslie,  do  you  so  wholly 
desert  us  at  Highgate  ?  Are  we  not  always  delighted  to  see  you  ? 
Now,  too,  more  than  ever ;  since,  in  addition  to  yourself,  you  are 
all  we  have  of  Allston. 

"S.  T.  Coleridge." 

"  Is*  March,  1819." 

On  looking  back  to  the  time  when  this  note  was  written,  I 
grieve  to  think  that  I  should  have  allowed  my  natural  indolence, 
the  distance,  and  occupations,  often  trifling  in  comparison  with 
the  privilege  of  enjoying  Coleridge's  society,  to  give  ground  for 
the  charge  in  the  latter  part  of  it. 

It  is  not  the  lot  of  any  one,  twice  in  his  life,  to  meet  with  so 
extraordinary  a  man.  I  now  read  over  and  over  again  what  his 
nephew  has  recorded  of  his  conversation,  and  I  can  vouch  for  the 
exactness  with  which  his  manner  is  preserved  in  those  precious 
little  volumes.  The  remarks  there  given,  on  "  Othello  "  and 
"  Hamlet,"  formed  parts  of  his  lectures  on  Shakespeare  :  — 

"  The  clue  to  the  inconsistencies  of  Hamlet  might  be  found," 
he  said,  "  in  the  undue  predominance  of  the  inner  over  the  outer 
man." 

Coleridge  did  not  consider  that  the  passion  of  jealousy  was  the 
subject  of  the  tragedy  of  "  Othello,"  but  that  Shakespeare  had 
displayed  it  fully  and  truly  in  the  "  Winter's  Tale."  "  Othello  is 
anything  but  jealous  in  his  nature,  and  made  so  only  by  the 
machinations  of  lago,  while  Leontes  requires  no  prompter  but  his 
own  suspicious  mind."  He  observed,  that  the  difficulty  was  great 
in  imagining  an  expression  adequate  to  the  feelings  of  Othello 
when  he  first  sees  Iago  after  having  discovered  his  villany,  and 
he  thought  it  a  master  stroke  of  Shakespeare  to  surmount  it  as 
he  has  done  : 

"  I  look  clown  towards  his  feet;  but  that's  a  fable. 
If  that  thou  be'st  a  devil  I  cannot  kill  thee." 

He  pointed  out  the  great  dramatic  beauty  of  the  opening  scenes 
of  "  Hamlet,"  and  the  admirable  skill  with  which  the  ghost-  is 
introduced.    Although  Marcellus  and  Bernardo  are  expecting  its 


chap,  ii.]      COLERIDGE'S  LECTURES  ON  SHAKESPEARE. 


31 


appearance,  and  Horatio  has  joined  their  watch  with  the  same 
expectation,  and  they  are  even  talking  about  it,  its  entrance  is 
startling,  and  every  succeeding  appearance  alike  thrilling.  In 
reading  passages  from  the  first  scenes  of  this  play,  Coleridge 
noticed  Shakespeare's  respect  even  for  the  superstitions  connected 
with  the  mysteries  of  Christianity,  a  beautiful  instance  of  which 
occurs  in  the  lines, 

"  It  faded  on  the  crowing  of  the  cock. 
Some  say,  that  ever  'gainst  that  season  comes, 
Wherein  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated, 
This  bird  of  dawning  singeth  all  night  long: 
And  then,  they  say,  no  spirit  dares  stir  abroad; 
The  nights  are  wholesome ;  then  no  planets  strike, 
No  fairy  takes,  nor  witch  hath  power  to  charm ; 
So  hallow'd  and  so  gracious  is  the  time." 

He  said  the  reply  of  Horatio  was,  he  believed,  exactly  that 
winch  Shakespeare  himself  would  have  made  : 

"  So  have  I  heard,  and  do  in  part  believe  it." 

He  could  never  read,  he  said,  any  of  those  scenes  in  which 
children  are  introduced,  "  without  laying  the  book  down  and  lov- 
ing Shakespeare  over  again."  He  said  the  anachronisms  noticed 
by  Shakespeare's  critics  would  not,  perhaps,  have  given  the  poet 
himself  any  great  uneasiness  had  they  been  pointed  out  to  him, 
as  possibly  they  were  ;  and  this  may  have  given  rise  to  that 
curious  intentional  anachronism  in  the  third  act  of  "  Lear,"  where 
the  fool,  after  fourteen  lines  of  a  burlesque  prediction,  says  : 

"  This  prophecy  Merlin  shall  make,  for  Hive  before  his  time." 

I  wish  I  could  recollect  what  Coleridge  said  of  the  character 
of  Falstaff.  I  only  remember,  with  certainty,  his  opinion  that 
Shakespeare,  in  the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  had  departed 
from  the  original  conception  of  the  character,  and  that  the  Fal- 
staff in  that  play,  though  very  amusing,  was  much  below  the  Fal- 
staff of  the  two  parts  of  "  Henry  the  Fourth."  I  am  not  sure 
whether  it  was  Coleridge  who  remarked,  that  in  the  scene  in  the 
First  Part  of  "  Henry  the  Fourth,"  in  which  Falstaff  brags  of 
his  feats  at  Gadshill,  he  begins  with  the  intention  of  imposing  on 


32 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  Hi 


the  Prince  and  Poins,  but  quickly  perceiving  that  they  do  not 
believe  him,  he  goes  on  buffooning,  and  adds  to  the  men  in  buck- 
ram until  they  amount  to  eleven,  merely  to  make  the  Prince 
laugh. 

A  most  interesting  portion  of  Coleridge's  lectures  consisted  in 
his  pointing  out  the  truth  and  refinement  of  Shakespeare's  women, 
beyond  those  of  all  other  dramatists  ;  and  how  purified  his  imagi- 
nation was  from  everything  gross,  in  comparison  with  those  of 
his  contemporaries. 

Coleridge's  lectures  were,  unfortunately,  extemporaneous.  He 
now  and  then  took  up  scraps  of  paper  on  which  he  had  noted 
the  leading  points  of  his  subject,  and  he  had  books  about  him 
for  quotation.  On  turning  to  one  of  these  (a  work  of  his  own  *), 
he  said,  "  As  this  is  a  secret  which  I  confided  to  the  public  a  year 
or  two  ago,  and  which,  to  do  the  public  justice,  has  been  very 
faithfully  kept,  I  may  be  permitted  to  read  you  a  passage  from  it." 

His  voice  was  deep  and  musical,  and  his  words  followed  each 
other  in  an  unbroken  flow,  yet  free  from  monotony.  There  was 
indeed  a  peculiar  charm  in  his  utterance.  His  pronunciation  was 
remarkably  correct :  in  some  respects  pedantically  so.  He  gave 
the  full  sound  of  the  /  in  talk,  and  should  and  would. 

Sir  James  Mackintosh  attended  the  whole  course  of  these  lec- 
tures, and  listened  with  the  greatest  interest.  This  was  heaping 
coals  of  fire  on  the  head  of  Coleridge,  who  had  lampooned  him 
with  great  severity  for  his  political  apostacy,  as  it  was  considered. 
I  remember  many  years  afterwards,  when  I  had  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  seeing  Sir  James,  hearing  him  say  that  the  best  thing 
ever  said  of  ghosts  was  by  Coleridge,  who,  when  asked  by  a  lady 
if  he  believed  in  them,  replied,  "No,  Madam,  I  have  seen  too 
many  to  believe  in  them." 

It  was  in  company  with  Coleridge  that  I  first  heard  the  night- 
ingale, that  is,  to  know  that  I  heard  it.  It  was  in  a  lane  near 
Highgate  where  there  were  a  number  singing,  and  he  easily  dis- 
tinguished and  pointed  out  to  me  their  full  rich  notes  among  those 
of  other  birds,  for  it  was  in  •  the  day  time.  He  even  told  how 
many  were  there.  He  took  me  to  an  eminence  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, commanding  a  view  of  Caen  wood,  and  said  the  assemblage 
*  Probably  the  "  Biographia  Literaria,"  published  in  1817. 


CHAP.  II.] 


FRAGMENTS  OF  COLERIDGE. 


33 


of  objects,  as  seen  from  that  point,  reminded  him  of  the  passage 
in  Milton,  beginning  — 

"  Strait  mine  eye  hath  caught  new  pleasures, 
Whilst  the  landskip  round  it  measures;  " 

—  and  running  through  the  following  eighteen  or  twenty  lines. 

Among  the  fragments  of  his  conversation  that  I  remember,  are 
the  following :  — 

"  How  natural  is  the  exaggeration  in  the  account  the  woman 
of  Samaria  carries  to  her  friends  of  our  Saviour.  *  Come,  see  a 
man  which  told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did ; '  when,  in  reality, 
our  Lord  had  only  told  her  that  she  had  had  five  husbands,  and 
that  he,  whom  she  now  had,  was  not  her  husband." 

He  said  he  did  not  doubt  but  that  in  the  12th  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew,  the  40th  verse  was  a  gloss : 

'  "  For  as  Jonas  was  three  days  and  three  nights  in  the  whale's 
belly :  so  shall  the  Son  of  Man  be  three  days  and  three  nights  in 
the  heart  of  the  earth." 

Now,  as  our  Saviour  was  crucified  on  Friday,  and  rose  again  * 
on  Sunday  morning,  he  was  but  one  entire  day  and  two  nights  in 
the  tomb ;  besides  which  the  following  verse  shows  sufficiently 
what  was  intended  by  the  refusal  to  give  any  other  sign  than  the 
sign  of  the  prophet  Jonas. 

u  The  men  of  Nineveh  shall  rise  up  in  judgment  with  this  gen- 
eration and  condemn  it,  because  they  repented  at  the  preaching 
of  Jonas,  and  behold,  a  greater  than  Jonas  is  here." 

Speaking  of  the  utilitarians,  Coleridge  said,  "  The  penny  saved 
penny  got  utilitarians  forget,  or  do  not  comprehend,  high  moral 
utility,  —  the  utility  of  poetry  and  of  painting,  and  of  all  that 
exalts  and  refines  our  nature."  He  thought  Lord  Byron's  misan- 
thropy was  affected,  or  partly  so,  and  that  it  would  wear  off  as 
he  grew  older.  He  said  that  Byron's  perpetual  quarrel  with  the 
world  was  as  absurd  as  if  the  spoke  of  a  wheel  should  quarrel 
witli  the  movement  of  which  it  must  of  necessity  partake. 

But  Lord  Byron  had  not  then  proved,  as  he  afterwards  did, 
that  with  all  his  surprising  and  varied  powers,  possessing  an  eye 
for  material  beauty,  and  extraordinary  eloquence  in  describing  it, 
he  wanted  the  first  requisite  of  a  great  poet,  a  true  perception  of 
moral  beauty. 

3 


34 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  II. 


Coleridge  dearly  loved  Allston,  and  of  Mrs.  Allston  lie  said 
(and  I  who  knew  her  intimately,  can  bear  witness  how  truly), 
"  She  is  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile." 

I  once  found  Coleridge  driving  the  balls  on  a  bagatelle  board 
for  a  kitten  to  run  after  them.  He  noticed  that,  as  soon  as  the 
little  thing  turned  its  back  to  the  balls  it  seemed  to  forget  all 
about  them,  and  played  with  its  tail.  "  I  am  amused,"  he  said, 
u  with  their  little  short  memories." 

Coleridge's  want  of  success  in  all  worldly  matters  may  be  at- 
tributed to  the  mastery  possessed  over  him  by  his  own  wonderful 
mind.  Common  men  as  often  succeed  by  the  qualities  they  want, 
as  great  men  fail  by  those  they  have.  Coleridge  could  not  direct 
his  extraordinary  powers  to  the  immediately  useful  occupations 
of  life,  or  to  those  exercises  of  them  likely  to  procure  him  bread, 
unless  he  was  perpetually  urged  on  by  some  kind  friend.  The 
tragedy  of  "  Remorse "  was  written  whilst  he  lived  with  Mr. 
Morgan,  and  I  believe  would  never  have  been  completed  but  for 
'the  importunities  of  Mrs.  Morgan.  A  few  days  after  the  ap- 
pearance of  his  piece,  he  was  sitting  in  the  coffee-room  of  a  hotel, 
and  heard  his  name  coupled  with  a  coroner's  inquest,  by  a  gentle- 
man who  was  reading  a  newspaper  to  a  friend.  He  asked  to  see 
the  paper,  which  was  handed  to  him  with  the  remark  that  "  It 
was  very  extraordinary  that  Coleridge,  the  poet,  should  have 
hanged  himself  just  after  the  success  of  his  play  ;  but  he  was  al- 
ways a  strange  mad  fellow."  "  Indeed,  sir,"  said  Coleridge,  "  it  is 
a  most  extraordinary  thing  that  he  should  have  hanged  himself, 
be  the  subject  of  an  inquest,  and  yet  that  he  should  at  this  moment 
be  speaking  to  you."  The  astonished  stranger  hoped  he  had  "  said 
nothing  to  hurt  his  feelings,"  and  was  made  easy  on  that  point. 
The  newspaper  related  that  a  gentleman  in  black  had  been  cut 
down  from  a  tree  in  Hyde  Park,  without  money  or  papers  in 
his  pockets,  his  shirt  being  marked  "  S.  T.  Coleridge ; "  and 
Coleridge  was  at  no  loss  to  understand  how  this  might  have 
happened,  since  he  seldom  travelled  without  losing  a  shirt  or  two. 

When  Allston  was  suffering  extreme  depression  of  spirits,  im- 
mediately after  the  loss  of  his  wife,  he  was  haunted,  during  sleep- 
less nights,  by  horrid  thoughts ;  and  he  told  me  that  diabolical 
imprecations  forced  themselves  into  his  mind.    The  distress  of 


CHAP.  II.] 


ALLSTON.    CHARLES  LAMB. 


35 


this  to  a  man  so  sincerely  religious  as  Allston,  may  be  imagined. 
He  wished  to  consult  Coleridge,  but  could  not  summon  resolution. 
He  desired,  therefore,  that  I  would  do  it ;  and  I  went  to  High- 
gate,  where  Coleridge  was  at  that  time  living  with  Mr.  Gillman. 
I  found  him  walking  in  the  garden,  his  hat  in  his  hand  (as  it 
generally  was  in  the  open  air),  for  he  told  me  that,  having  been 
one  of  the  Blue-coat  boys,  among  whom  it  is  the  fashion  to  go 
bare-headed,  he  had  acquired  a  dislike  to  any  covering  of  the 
head.  I  explained  the  cause  of  my  visit,  and  he  said,  "Allston 
should  say  to  himself,  '  Nothing  is  me  but  my  will.  These 
thoughts,  therefore,  that  force  themselves  on  my  mind  are  no  part 
of  me,  and  there  can  be  no  guilt  in  them.'  If  he  will  make  a 
strong  effort  to  become  indifferent  to  their  recurrence  they  will 
either  cease,  or  cease  to  trouble  him."  He  said  much  more,  but 
this  was  the  substance,  and  after  it  was  repeated  to  Allston,  I  did 
not  hear  him  again  complain  of  the  same  kind  of  disturbance. 

At  Mr.  Morgan's  house  in  Berners  Street,  I  first  saw  Charles 
Lamb,  who  was  intimate  in  a  literary  coterie  composed  of  per- 
sons with  principles  very  opposite  to  those  of  Coleridge.  Some- 
body, wishing  to  give  the  latter  a  favourable  impression  of  these 
people,  spoke  of  Lamb's  friendship  for  them ;  and  Coleridge  re- 
plied, "  Charles  Lamb's  character  is  a  sacred  one  with  me ;  no 
associations  that  he  may  form  can  hurt  the  purity  of  his  mind, 
but  it  is  not,  therefore,  necessary  that  I  should  see  all  men  with 
his  eyes."  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  of  Lamb  he  spoke 
in  the  following  passage  from  the  "  Table  Talk :  "  —  "  Nothing 
ever  left  a  stain  on  that  gentle  creature's  mind,  which  looked 
upon  the  degraded  men  and  things  around  him  like  moonshine  on 
a  dunghill,  which  shines  and  takes  no  pollution.  All  things  are 
shadows  to  him,  except  those  which  move  his  affections."  No 
one  ever  more  fully  pictured  his  own  mind  in  his  writings  than 
Lamb  has  done  in  his  delightful  Essays ;  and  every  reader  of 
them,  I  think,  must  acknowledge  that  Coleridge,  in  what  he  said, 
only  did  his  friend  justice.  But  Lamb,  from  the  dread  of  ap- 
pearing affected,  sometimes  injured  himself  by  his  behaviour  before 
persons  who  were  slightly  acquainted  with  him.  With  the  finest 
and  tenderest  feelings  ever  possessed  by  man,  he  seemed  care- 
fully to  avoid  any  display  of  sentimentality  in  his  talk.    The  fol- 


30 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  II. 


lowing  trifling  anecdote  is  merely  given  as  an  illustration  of  his 
playfulness.  I  dined  with  him  one  day  at  Mr.  Gillman's.  Return- 
ing to  town  in  the  stage-coach,  which  was  filled  with  Mr.  Gill- 
man's  guests,  we  stopped  for  a  minute  or  two  at  Kentish  Town. 
A  woman  asked  the  coachman,  "  are  you  full  inside  ?  "  Upon 
which  Lamb  put  his  head  through  the  window  and  said,  "  I  am 
quite  full  inside ;  that  last  piece  of  pudding  at  Mr.  Gillman's  did 
the  business  for  me." 

Much  as  I  then  admired  the  traits  of  his  mind  and  feelings 
shown  in  his  charming  Essays,  little  did  I  comprehend  the  entire 
worth  of  his  character.  I  had  often  met  his  sister  Mary,  a  quiet 
old  lady,  who  was  like  him  in  face,  but  stouter  in  figure.  I  knew 
that,  at  times,  her  mind  had  been  unhinged  from  an  early  period, 
but  I  never  heard  of  the  dreadful  act  with  which  her  insanity 
began  until  long  after  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing ;  and  I 
was  unacquainted,  therefore,  with  the  unparalleled  excellence  of 
her  brother,  the  strength  of  his  love,  the  greatness  of  his  courage, 
and  that  noble  system  of  economy  in  which  he  persevered  to  the 
end  of  his  days,  so  difficult  to  a  man  who  had  so  thorough  a  rel- 
ish for  all  the  elegances  and  luxuries  of  life  ;  indeed  impossible, 
had  he  not  had  a  still  higher  relish  for  the  luxury  of  goodness. 
The  letters  published,  after  his  death  and  that  of  his  sister,  by 
Mr.  Talfourd,  make  up  a  volume  of  more  interest  to  me  than 
any  book  of  human  composition. 

I  have  noticed  that  Lamb  sometimes  did  himself  injustice  by 
his  odd  sayings  and  actions,  and  he  now  and  then  did  the  same 
by  his  writings.  His  "  Confessions  of  a  Drunkard  "  greatly  ex- 
aggerate any  habits  of  excess  he  may  ever  have  indulged.  The 
regularity  of  his  attendance  at  the  India  House,  and  the  liberal 
manner  in  which  he  was  rewarded  for  that  attendance,  prove  that 
he  never  could  have  been  a  drunkard.  Well,  indeed,  would  it 
be  for  the  world  if  such  extraordinary  virtues  as  he  possessed 
were  often  found  in  company  with  so  very  few  faults. 

Sir  George  Beaumont  left  £100  to  Mrs.  Coleridge,  but  nothing 
to  her  husband,  who  was  then,  as  always,  very  poor.  Lamb  was 
indignant  at  this,  and  said  it  seemed  to  mark  Coleridge  with  a 
stigma.  "  If,"  he  added,  "  Coleridge  was  a  scamp,  Sir  George 
should  not  have  continued,  as  he  did,  to  invite  him  to  dinner." 


CHAPTER  III. 


President  West  —  Washington  Irving  and  Walter  Scott  —  Visit  to  Oxford  — 
Elected  associate  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  —  Flaxman  and  Lawrence  — 
Flaxman  and  Canova  —  Chantrey  —  Garrick  and  Parliament. 

I  should  have  mentioned  that,  in  the  year  1818,  I  was  in- 
vited into  Devonshire  by  my  kind  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dunlop, 
who  had  taken  a  house  at  Dawlish  for  the  season.  I  spent  a 
fortnight  very  delightfully  with  them,  and  then  visited  Plymouth, 
and  the  pretty  village  of  Plympton,  where  I  made  a  sketch  of 
the  house  in  which  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  was  born. 

After  my  return  to  London  I  painted,  for  Mr.  Dunlop,  "  Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley  going  to  Church,  accompanied  by  4  The  Spec- 
tator.'" This  picture  attracted  more  notice  in  the  Exhibition 
than  anything  I  had  hitherto  painted,  and  the  Marquis  of  Lans- 
downe  employed  me  to  repeat  the  subject  for  him. 

In  the  spring  of  1819,  Mr.  West  was  confined  to  his  house  by 
illness.  I  was  with  him  a  few  days  before  the  close  of  the  Exhi- 
bition, and  on  his  expressing  a  wish  that  he  could  see  it,  I  asked 
him  if  it  was  not  possible.  He  answered  "  that  he  was  too  feeble 
to  go  on  a  public  day,  and  that  his  only  chance  of  visiting  it  was 
on  the  day  after  it  closed  ;  but  that,  if  the  Prince  Regent  went, 
he,  as  President,  must  attend  upon  His  Royal  Highness  —  a  cer- 
emony for  which  he  was  too  unwell." 

"  But  surely,"  said  I,  "  the  Prince,  knowing  how  ill  you  are, 
would  excuse  you  from  the  fatigue  of  attendance." 

"  No,"  he  replied ;  "  if  the  Prince  goes,  I  cannot ;  "  and  then, 
after  a  pause,  he  added,  "  Mr.  Leslie,  it  is  now  many  years  since 
I  have  had  cause  to  know  the  wisdom  of  David's  advice,  '  put 
not  your  trust  in  princes.' " 

George  the  Third  had  been  cordially  West's  friend,  as  long  as 
he  possessed  his  senses ;  but  as  soon  as  his  derangement  trans- 


38 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  III. 


ferred  his  powers  to  others,  the  pension  Mr.  West  had  received 
from  him  was  stopped,  and  he  was  given  to  understand  that  those 
works  he  was  engaged  on  for  the  King,  would  not  be  paid  for. 
He  was  unable  to  see  the  Exhibition  of  1819,  whether  in  conse- 
quence of  ill-health,  or  of  its  being  visited  by  the  Prince,  I  now 
forget ;  and  before  the  Exhibition  of  1820,  this  eminent  artist, 
and  amiable,  generous  man,  was  no  more. 

Constable  told  me  that  on  calling  at  his  house  the  day  after  his 
death,  West's  old  and  faithful  servant,  Robert  Brenning,  remarked 
to  him,  "  Ah,  sir !  where  will  they  go  now  ? "  meaning  the 
younger  artists.  And  well  might  the  old  man  say  so  ;  for  al- 
though I  know  of  no  eminent  painter  in  London,  who  is  not  will- 
ing to  communicate  instruction  to  any  of  his  brethren  who  need 
it,  yet  at  that  time  there  was  not,  nor  indeed  has  there  been  since, 
any  one  so  accessible  as  Mr.  West,  and,  I  may  add,  so  well  quali- 
fied to  give  advice  on  every  branch  of  the  art.  He  had  gener- 
ally a  levee  of  artists  at  his  house  every  morning  before  he  began 
work.*  Nor  did  a  shabby  coat  or  an  old  hat,  ever  occasion  his 
door  to  be  shut  in  the  face  of  the  wearer.  Constable  said  truly 
of  West  that,  "  in  his  own  room,  and  with  a  picture  before  him, 
his  instructions  were  invaluable  ;  but,  as  a  public  lecturer,  he 
failed."  This  arose,  partly,  perhaps  from  diffidence.  On  the  only 
occasion  on  which  I  heard  him  address  an  assembly,  the  vener- 
able old  man,  when  he  began  to  speak,  blushed  like  a  young  girl. 
In  this  lecture,  he  explained  to  us  his  theory  of  the  arrangement 
of  colours,  which  he  said  was  founded  on  the  rainbow.  The 
principal  masses  of  warm  colour,  as  orange,  yellow,  and  red,  by 
this  principle,  he  placed  on  that  side  of  the  picture  where  the 
light  enters,  and  the  green,  blue,  and  purple  on  the  opposite  side, 
where  also  he  placed  his  chief  mass  of  white.  He  said  he  could 
only  trace  the  observance  of  this  rule,  as  a  principle,  in  the  later 
works  of  RafFaelle,  and  that  it  was  from  studying  the  cartoons  he 
had  discovered  it.  He  admitted  that  in  Titian's  "  Peter  Martyr," 
the  arrangement  of  colour  is  on  a  plan  exactly  contrary,  but 
added,  "  Titian's  eye  was  so  fine  that  he  could  produce  harmony 
by  any  arrangement." 

*  This,  I  am  told,  was  also  the  case  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  was 
equally  ready  to  advise  and  assist  young  painters. 


CHAP.  III.] 


PRESIDENT  WEST. 


30 


I  remember  his  remarking  to  me  how  different,  at  different 
times,  and  under  different  circumstances,  the  same  picture  may- 
appear  to  us,  and  how  greatly  we  are  often  influenced  in  the  im- 
pression we  receive  from  one  picture,  by  the  effect  produced  on 
us  by  another  which  we  have  just  seen.  As  an  illustration  of 
this,  he  told  me  that,  having  to  superintend  an  alteration  of  the 
arrangement  of  some  of  the  pictures  in  the  Royal  collection  (of 
which  he  had  the  care),  and  knowing  that  a  Vandyke,  which  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  greatly  admired,  would  be  taken  down,  he  called 
on  him  on  his  way,  and  Sir  Joshua  very  gladly  accompanied  him 
to  Buckingham  House.  They  found  the  Vandyke  standing  on  the 
floor.  Sir  Joshua  eagerly  ran  up  to  it,  and  after  examining  it 
very  closely,  turned  to  Mr.  West  with  an  air  of  disappointment, 
and  said,  "After  all  it  is  a  copy."  To  this  "West  made  no 
immediate  reply,  but  they  looked  at  some  of  the  other  pictures  in 
the  room  ;  and  then  returning  to  the  Vandyke,  Reynolds  said,  "  I 
don't  know  what  to  think  of  it ;  it  is  much  more  beautiful  than 
it  appeared  to  me  at  first.  It  can  hardly  be  a  copy."  Mr.  West 
replied,  "  I  have  no  doubt  of  its  originality,  and  I  can  explain  the 
cause  of  your  disappointment  on  first  seeing  it.  When  I  called 
on  you,  you  were  engaged  on  one  of  your  own  dashing  back- 
grounds, preparing  it  with  the  brightest  colours  for  glazing. 
Your  eye  had  perhaps  been  for  an  hour  on  your  own  work, 
and  anything  would  look  tame  and  dull  after  it.  The  Vandyke 
appeared  to  you,  at  first  sight,  to  want  brightness,  and  to  be  weak 
and  timid  in  execution ;  but  when  you  had  looked  at  the  other 
pictures  in  the  room  and  returned  to  it,  the  taste,  truth,  and  deli- 
cacy with  which  it  is  painted,  became  apparent  to  you." 

In  talking  with  Mr.  West  on  dress,  he  mentioned  the  great  im- 
portance that  attached  to  an  expensive  wig  within  his  own  recol- 
lection. He  remembered  an  argument  on  the  merits  of  O'Brian,* 
an  actor  of  genteel  comedy  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of 
George  the  Third,  in  which  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school  main- 
tained, contrary  to  the  opinion  of  the  company,  that  he  was  not 

*  The  same  whose  marriage  with  Lady  Susan  Fox,  eldest  daughter  of  the 
first  Lord  Ilchester,  excited  such  a  sensation  in  the  fashionable  world  of  the 
last  century.  (See  Walpole's  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Hertford  of  April  12, 
1764.)  — Ed. 


40 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  HI. 


successful  in  characters  of  high  life.  "  Mr.  O'Brian,"  said  he, 
"  does  not  play  the  fine  gentleman  ;  nor  can  any  man  play  the 
fine  gentleman  without  a  fifty  guinea  wig  on  his  head.'' 

Gait,  in  his  "  Life  of  West,"  says,  "  When  the  West  family 
emigrated,  John,  the  father  of  Benjamin,  was  left  to  complete 
his  education  at  the  great  school  of  the  Quakers,  at  Uxbridge, 
and  did  not  join  his  relations  in  America  till  the  year  1714." 
Whether  or  not  John  West  went  to  America  immediately  on 
leaving  school,  I  have  heard,  on  good  authority,  that  he  was 
married  before  he  left  England,  and  that  his  wife,  not  being  in 
a  condition  to  undertake  the  voyage,  remained  at  home,  an- 
other reason  for  this  being  his  uncertainty  whether  he  should 
settle  in  America.  She  gave  birth  to  a  son,  and  died.  The 
child  was  taken  care  of  by  relations,  who,  when  the  father  de- 
sired it  should  be  sent  to  him,  begged  to  keep  it.  To  this  he 
assented  ;  and  marrying  again,  the  painter  was  the  youngest  of 
the  ten  children  of  his  American  wife.  When  Benjamin  left 
home  to  seek  his  fortune  in  Europe,  he  was  engaged  to  the  lady 
he  afterwards  married,  Elizabeth  Shewell.  In  17G5  his  vener- 
able father  accompanied  her  to  England,  and  then,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  was  introduced  to  his  eldest  son,  who  was  fifty 
years  of  age.    He  was  a  watchmaker,  and  lived  at  Reading. 

There  is  a  stippled  engraving  *  of  West's  family,  which  I  re- 
member to  have  seen  in  the  window  of  a  print  shop  in  Philadel- 
phia when  I  was  so  young  as  not  even  to  have  heard  of  the 
painter.  The  natural  and  simple  treatment  of  the  subject  made 
a  great  impression  on  me  even  then,  and  to  this  hour  it  has  not 
ceased  to  interest  me  more  than  any  other  composition  by  West, 
great  or  small.  I  look  on  it  indeed  as  the  most  original  of  all  his 
works  ;  and  cannot  but  regret  that,  instead  of  being  ambitious  to 
produce,  too  rapidly  for  excellence,  many  pictures  of  large  dimen- 
sions, he  had  not  looked  more  about  him  in  real  life  for  subjects 
like  this,  in  which  he  seems  to  have  been  eminently  qualified  to 
excel.  His  works  of  higher  pretension,  compared  with  it,  prove 
the  truth  of  Johnson's  remark,  "  That  which  is  greatest  is  not 
always  best."  The  picture,  which  now  belongs  to  Raphael  West 
(the  boy  standing  by  his  mother's  side),  is  no  larger  than  the 
*  This  engraving  used  to  hang  in  Leslie's  drawing-room.  —  Ed. 


CHAP.  III.] 


PRESIDENT  WEST. 


41 


print,  and  of  no  great  excellence  in  colour.  "West  himself  seems 
to  have  been  pleased  with  the  group,  as  a  happy  treatment  of 
the  often-painted  subject,  "  The  Ages  of  Man."  To  my  mind, 
it  is  incomparably  the  best.  He  repeated  it  with  great  variations; 
substituting  loose  draperies  for  the  modern  dresses,  and  it  im- 
mediately became  common-place  ;  an  additional  proof  to  those 
furnished  by  the  histories  of  most  artists  of  the  danger  of  en- 
deavouring to  improve  on  incidents  taken  from  real  life.  In  the 
first  picture,  everything  is  individual  and  characteristic,  every- 
thing essential.  The  hats  on  the  heads  of  John  West  and  his 
eldest  son,  in  the  presence  of  a  lady,  mark  the  sect  who  never 
uncover  their  heads  in  token  of  respect  but  when  they  kneel  to 
God.  These  relatives  are  paying  their  first  visit  to  Mrs.  West 
on  the  birth  of  her  second  child.  They  are  sitting,  as  is  the 
custom  of  quakers,  for  a  few  minutes  in  silent  meditation,  which 
will  soon  be  ended  by  the  old  man's  taking  off  his  hat  and  offer- 
ing up  a  prayer  for  the  mother  and  infant.  Wilkie  greatly  ad- 
mired this  composition  before  he  knew  the  entire  meaning  of  the 
subject.  He  was  struck  with  its  extreme  simplicity,  and  the  un- 
ostentatious breadth  of  its  masses  of  light  and  dark. 

Mr.  West  told  me  that  on  asking  his  father  how  he  was  struck 
with  the  appearance  of  London  after  his  long  absence,  he  re- 
plied, "  The  streets  and  houses  look  very  much  as  they  did ;  but 
can  thee  tell  me  what  has  become  of  all  the  Englishmen  ?  When 
I  left  England,  the  men  were  a  portly,  comely  race,  with  broad 
skirts  and  large  flowing  wigs;  rather  slow  in  their  movements, 
and  grave  and  dignified  in  their  deportment :  but  now  they  are 
docked  and  cropped,  and  skipping  about  in  scanty  clothes  like  so 
many  monkeys."  The  impression  made  on  the  old  man  shows 
how  greatly  French  fashions  and  manners  had  gained  ground  in 
England  during  the  half  century  he  had  passed  in  America. 

In  Hogarth's  works  there  are  many  hints  of  this.  The  bride- 
groom in  the  first  picture  of  the  "  Marriage  a  la  Mode,"  is  evi- 
dently dressed  on  the  model  of  a  Paris  beau  ;  the  boy  beating  a 
drum  in  "  The  enraged  Musician,"  has  been  metamorphosed,  as 
far  as  dress  could  do  it,  into  a  little  Frenchman ;  the  two  gallants 
in  the  boxes  in  "  The  laughing  Audience,"  are  as  French  as 
possible,  while  the  pit  is  filled  with  plain  English  folk  who  are  not 


42 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  III. 


too  fine  to  take  an  interest  in  the  performance  ;  and  in  "  Taste  in 
High  Life,"  the  antiquated  beau,  dressed  in  the  extreme  of  the 
Parisian  fashion,  has  succeeded  in  making  himself  look  very  like 
a  monkey.  Goldsmith  represents  the  landlord  of  "The  Three 
Pigeons  "  as  telling  Tony  Lumpkin  that  Hastings  and  Marlowe 
"  may  be  Londoners,  for  they  look  woundily  like  Frenchmen." 

This  fashion  was  checked  by  the  French  Revolution,  and  put 
an  end  to,  for  a  time,  by  the  war  that  followed  it ;  but  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that,  though  often  interrupted  by  political  events,  it  is 
(among  the  aristocracy  of  England)  as  old  as  the  time  of  William 
of  Normandy,  and  the  natural  result  of  the  Conquest.* 

In  April,  1820,  Irving  took  me  to  breakfast  with  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  who  was  then  in  London,  and  at  the  house  of  his  friend, 
Mrs.  Dumergue,  in  Piccadilly.  I  had  never  before  seen  the  great 
novelist.  He  was  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  high  and  increas- 
ing reputation,  and  he  appeared  to  great  advantage.  A  large 
party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  assembled  at  the  breakfast 
table,  among  whom  was  one  of  the  sons  of  Johnson's  Boswell. 

Nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  than  my  daily  intercourse  at 
this  period  with  Irving  and  Newton.  We  visited  in  the  same 
families,  chiefly  Americans  resident  in  London,  and  generally 
dined  together  at  the  York  Chop  House,  in  Wardour  Street. 
Irving's  brother,  Peter,  an  amiable  man,  and  not  without  a  dash 
of  Washington's  humour,  was  always  of  our  party.  Delightful 
were  our  excursions  to  Richmond  or  Greenwich,  or  to  some 
suburban  fair,  on  the  top  of  a  coach.  The  harmony  that  sub- 
sisted among  us  was  uninterrupted ;  but  Irving  grew  into  fame  as 
an  author,  and  being,  all  at  once,  made  a  great  lion  of  by  fashion- 
able people,  he  was  much  withdrawn  from  us.  Newton,  too,  who 
was  naturally  formed  for  society,  was  soon  much  noticed  for  his 
agreeable  qualities,  as  well  as  for  his  eminence  in  art,  and  our 
intercourse  was  a  good  deal  interrupted  in  consequence. 

Irving  writing  to  me  from  Paris  in  1824,  said,  "  I  often  look 
back  with  fondness  and  regret  on  the  times  when  we  lived  to- 
gether in  London,  in  a  delightful  community  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing ;  struggling  our  way  onward  in  the  world,  but  cheering  and 

*  I  should  be  inclined  to  trace  it  to  a  more  recent  soui*ce  of  influence  —  the 
imitation  of  French  fashions  among  the  courtiers  of  the  Restoration.  —  Ed. 


chap,  m.] 


VISIT  TO  OXFORD. 


43 


encouraging  each  other.  I  find  nothing  to  supply  the  place  of 
that  heartfelt  fellowship." 

I  had  been  for  some  time  what  is  called  acquainted  with  Con- 
stable, but  it  was  only  by  degrees  and  in  the  course  of  years  that 
I  became  really  acquainted  either  with  his  worth  as  a  man,  or  his 
true  value  as  an  artist.  My  taste  was  very  faulty  and  .Jong  in 
forming ;  and  of  landscape,  which  I  had  never  studied,  I  really 
knew  nothing,  or  worse  than  nothing,  for  I  admired,  as  poetical, 
styles  which  I  now  see  to  be  mannered,  conventional,  or  extrava- 
gant. But  the  more  I  knew  of  Constable,  the  more  I  regretted 
that  I  had  not  known  him  at  the  commencement  of  my  studies. 

As  I  have  published  all  I  recollect  of  him  that  seems  to  me 
best  worth  preserving,  I  have  nothing  to  add  except  some  memo- 
randa made  at  a  later  period  than  that  of  which  I  am  now  writ- 
ing. 

ToAvards  the  close  of  the  summer  of  1821,  I  made  a  delightful 
excursion  with  Washington  Irving  to  Birmingham,  and  thence 
into  Derbyshire.  We  mounted  the  top  of  one  of  the  Oxford 
coaches  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  intending  only  to  go  as 
far  as  Henley  that  night ;  but  the  evening  was  so  fine,  and  the 
fields,  filled  with  labourers  gathering  in  the  corn  by  the  light  of  a 
full  moon,  presented  so  animated  an  appearance,  that  although  we 
had  not  dined  we  determined  to  proceed  to  Oxford,  which  we 
reached  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  then  sat  down  to  a  hot  supper. 

The  next  day  it  rained  unceasingly,  and  we  were  confined  to 
the  inn,  like  the  nervous  traveller  whom  Irving  has  described  as 
spending  a  day  in  endeavouring  to  penetrate  the  mystery  of  "  the 
stout  gentleman."  This  wet  Sunday  at  Oxford  did,  in  fact,  sug- 
gest to  him  that  capital  story,  if  story  it  can  be  called.  The  next 
morning,  as  we  mounted  the  coach,  I  said  something  about  a  stout 
gentleman  who  had  come  from  London  with  us  the  day  before, 
and  Irving  remarked  that  "  The  Stout  Gentleman,"  would  not  be 
a  bad  title  for  a  tale.  As  soon  as  the  coach  stopped  he  began 
writing  with  his  pencil,  and  went  on  at  every  like  opportunity. 
We  visited  Stratford  on  Avon,  strolled  about  Charlecot  Park  and 
other  places  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  while  I  was  sketching, 
Irving,  mounted  on  a  stile,  or  seated  on  a  stone,  was  busily  en- 
gaged with  "  The  Stout  Gentleman  "   He  wrote  with  the  greatest 


44 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  III. 


rapidity,  often  laughing  to  himself,  and  from  time  to  time  reading 
the  manuscript  to  me.  We  loitered  some  days  in  this  classic 
neighbourhood,  visiting  Warwick  and  Kenilworth ;  and  by  the 
time  we  arrived  at  Birmingham,  the  outline  of  "  The  Stout 
Gentleman "  was  completed.  The  amusing  account  of  "  The 
Modem  Knights  Errant,"  he  added  at  Birmingham,  and  the 
inimitable  picture  of  the  inn  yard  on  a  rainy  day  was  taken  from 
an  inn  where  we  were  afterwards  quartered  at  Derby. 

It  had  been  the  custom  for  visitors  to  Shakespeare's  house  to 
scribble  their  names,  and  sometimes  scraps  of  bad  poetry,  on  its 
walls.  Irving,  on  a  former  visit  to  Stratford,  had  given  a  large 
blank  book  to  the  woman  who  had  the  care  of  the  house,  to  save 
the  walls  from  further  desecration.  We  found  in  it  the  name  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  had  been  there  with  a  party  not  long 
before,  and  were  amused  with  the  following  anonymous  parody 
on  the  inscription  which  Shakespeare  wrote  for  his  own  tomb : 

"  Good  friend,  for  Shakespeare's  sake,  forbear 
Thy  wit  or  lore  to  scribble  here; 
Blessed  are  they  that  rightly  con  him, 
And  curs'd  be  they  that  comment  on  him." 

In  November,  1821,  I  was  elected  an  associate  of  the  Royal 
Academy.  I  was,  on  every  account,  much  elated  with  this  event, 
one  of  the  great  advantages  resulting  from  which  was  the  oppor- 
tunities it  afforded  me  of  frequent  intercourse  with  the  best 
artists ;  with  Wilkie,  Stothard,  Flaxman,  Chantrey,  Lawrence, 
Turner,  Chalon,  and  Smirke,  upon  whom,  though  he  had  then 
retired  from  the  Avorld,  I  was  now  entitled  to  call.  I  found  him 
a  most  sensible  and  agreeable  man.  I  remember,  when  I  was  a 
student  of  the  Academy,  hearing  Sam  Strowger  tell  of  a  dialogue 
that  had  just  passed  between  Fuseli  and  himself,  as  follows  :  — 

"  Sam,  I  am  invited  to  dine  out ;  have  you  any  objection  to  my 
going?" 

"  That's  according  where  it  is,  Mr.  Fuseli." 
"  At  Mr.  Smirke's,  Sam." 

"  Oh  no,  sir.  Mr.  Smirke  is  a  very  nice  gentleman ;  and  I 
only  wish  I  was  qualified  to  go  with  you,  sir." 

Strowger  will  long  be  remembered  at  the  Academy,  not  only 


CHAP.  III.] 


ELECTED  ASSOCIATE. 


45 


as  a  character,  but  as  the  most  intelligent  and  faithful  of  servants 
to  the  Institution.  When  he  brought  me  my  Associate's  diploma, 
he  said,  "  I  wish  you  health  to  enjoy  it,  sir,  and  I  hope  I  shall 
soon  bring  you  another ;  but  all  in  good  time  ;  we  must  not  be  in 
too  great  a  hurry  to  get  rid  of  old  masters  and  get  new  ones ;  " 
and  then,  fearing  he  had  depressed  me,  he  added  in  a  lower  tone, 
"  but  there  are  some  of  them,  sir,  can't  last  long." 

It  is  the  etiquette  for  a  newly-elected  member  to  call  immedi- 
ately on  all  the  Academicians,  and  I  did  not  omit  paying  my 
respects  to  Northcote  among  the  rest,  although  I  knew  he  was  not 
on  good  terms  with  the  Academy.  I  was  shown  up  stairs  into  a 
large  front  room  filled  with  pictures,  many  of  the  larger  ones 
resting  against  each  other,  and  all  of  them  dim  with  dust.  I  had 
not  waited  long,  when  a  door  opened  which  communicated  with 
his  painting-room,  and  the  old  gentleman  appeared,  but  did  not 
advance  beyond  it.  His  diminutive  figure  was  enveloped  in  a 
chintz  dressing-gown,  below  which  his  trowsers,  which  looked  as 
if  made  for  a  much  taller  man,  hung  in  loose  folds  over  an  im- 
mense pair  of  shoes,  into  which  his  legs  seemed  to  have  shrunk 
down.  His  head  was  covered  with  a  blue  silk  night-cap,  and 
from  under  that  and  his  projecting  brows,  his  sharp  black  eyes 
peered  at  me  with  a  whimsical  expression  of  inquiry.  There  he 
stood,  with  his  palette  and  brushes  in  one  hand,  and  a  mahl-stick, 
twice  as  long  as  himself,  in  the  other ;  his  attitude  and  look  say- 
ing, for  he  did  not  speak,  "  What  do  you  want  ? "  On  telling 
him  that  I  had  been  elected  an  Associate  of  the  Academy,  he 
said  quickly,  "  And  who's  the  other  ?  "  "  Mr.  Clint,"  I  replied. 
"  And  so  Clint's  got  it  at  last.  You  are  an  architect,  I  believe." 
I  set  him  right ;  and  he  continued,  "  Well,  sir,  you  owe  nothing 
to  me  ;  I  never  go  near  them ;  indeed  I  never  go  out  at  night 
anywhere."  I  told  him  I  knew  that,  but  thought  it  right  to  pay 
my  respects  to  all  the  Academicians,  and  hoped  I  was  not  inter- 
rupting him.  He  said,  "  By  no  means ; "  and  asked  me  into  his 
painting-room,  where  he  was  at  work  on  an  equestrian  picture  of 
George  IV.,  as  large  as  life,  which  he  must  have  made  up  from 
busts  and  pictures.  "  I  was  desirous,"  he  said,  "  to  paint  the 
King,  for  there  is  no  picture  that  is  like  him  "  (I  could  not  help 
contrasting  to  myself  Lawrence's  pictures  of  his  Majesty  with  the 


40 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  III. 


one  before  me,  and  by  no  means  to  its  advantage)  ;  "  and  he  is  by 
far,"  continued  Northcote,  "  the  best  King  of  his  family  we  have 
had.  It  *has  been  remarked  that  this  country  is  best  governed  by 
a  woman,  for  then  the  government  is  carried  on  by  able  men  ; 
and  George  IV.  is  like  a  woman,  for  he  minds  only  his  own 
amusements,  and  leaves  the  affairs  of  the  country  to  his  ministers, 
instead  of  meddling  himself,  as  his  father  did.  He  is  just  what  a 
King  of  England  should  be,  something  to  look  grand,  and  to  hang 
the  robes  on." 

He  talked  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  I  asked  him  whether 
he  thought  Sir  Joshua  was  fully  aware  of  his  own  great  excel- 
lence. He  said,  "Perhaps  not;  I  believe  Sir  Joshua  did  not,  in 
his  own  estimation,  rank  himself  as  high  as  Vandyke.  When 
young  artists  asked  him  to  lend  them  his  pictures  to  copy,  he  did 
not  refuse,  but  was  accustomed  to  say,  6  If  you  can  get  a  fine 
Vandyke,  it  will  be  much  more  useful  to  you.' " 

Northcote  showed  me  what  I  supposed  to  be  a  picture  by 
Reynolds  ;  but  he  told  me  it  was  a  copy  by  Jackson,  and  said,  "  I 
have  been  myself  deceived  by  his  copies." 

I  asked  leave  to  repeat  my  visit,  which  was  readily  granted, 
and  from  that  time  we  were  very  good  friends.  He  talked  better 
than  he  painted. 

When  I  first  found  myself  painting  in  the  exhibition  rooms  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  where  most  of  its  members  were  at  work, 
retouching  their  pictures,  I  was  a  good  deal  puzzled  at  the  very 
opposite  advice  I  received  from  authorities  equally  high.  North- 
cote came  in,  and  it  was  the  only  time  I  ever  saw  him  at  the 
Academy.  He  had  a  large  picture  there,  and  not  hung  in  the 
best  of  places,  at  which  he  was  much  dissatisfied.  I  told  him  of 
my  difficulties,  and  that  Wilkie  and  Lawrence  had  just  given  me 
extraordinary  advice.  "  Everybody,"  he  said,  "  will  advise  you 
to  do  what  he  himself  Avould  do,  but  you  are  to  consider  and 
judge  for  yourself  whether  you  are  likely  to  do  it  as  he  would, 
and  if  not  you  may  spoil  your  picture." 

Northcote  then  complained  to  Phillips  of  the  ill-usage  he  had 
received  from  the  Academy,  and  said,  "  I  have  scarcely  ever  had 
a  picture  well  hung.    I  wish  I  had  never  belonged  to  you." 

Phillips  said,  laughing,  "  We  can  turn  you  out." 


CHAP.  III.] 


FLAXMAN  AND  LAWRENCE. 


47 


"  The  sooner  you  do  so  the  better  ;  only  think  of  the  men  you 
have  turned  out ;  you  turned  out  Sir  Joshua,  you  turned  out 
Barry,  and  you  turned  out  West ;  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  to 
make  a  fourth  in  such  company." 

The  truth  is,  Sir  Joshua  and  West  had  each  resigned  the  chair 
for  a  short  time,  in  consequence  of  some  displeasure  with  the 
Academy ;  and  therefore  what  Northcote  said  was  more  ingenious 
than  true ;  but  it  was  not  a  bad  specimen  of  his  readiness  in 
reply. 

When  Mr.  Shee  paid  him  some  compliments,  with  the  adroit- 
ness which  was  natural  to  him,  Northcote  said,  "  Very  well, 
indeed  ;  you  are  just  the  man  to  write  a  tragedy,  you  know  how 
to  make  a  speech."  At  another  time,  Northcote  complimented 
Shee  in  his  own  peculiar  manner  by  saying,  "  You  should  have 
been  in  Parliament  instead  of  the  Academy." 

I  lived  still  in  Buckingham  Place,  Fitzroy  Square,  and  was, 
therefore,  a  very  near  neighbour  to  Flaxman,  whose  studio  I 
often  visited.  I  remember  seeing  there  some  beautiful  casts,  in 
plaster  of  Paris,  from  real  flowers,  branches  of  laurel,  ivy,  &c. 
Being  attached  to  backgrounds,  they  had  the  appearance  of  ex- 
quisite carvings  in  high  relief.  The  firmer  flowers  and  leaves 
were  perfectly  moulded,  as  the  lily,  laurels,  &c. ;  and  even  roses 
were  cast  with  surprising  success. 

Flaxman  was  always  very  kind  in  giving  me  his  advice ;  but 
his  manner  was  almost  painfully  polite ;  he  would  say,  "  If  I 
might  presume  to  suggest,"  &c.  In  this  he  resembled  Lawrence, 
and  such  a  manner  had  the  effect,  though  not  intended,  of  keeping 
people  at  a  distance.  I  felt  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  become 
intimate  either  with  Flaxman  or  Lawrence. 

Though  Flaxman's  art  is  in  a  great  degree  eclectic,  yet  he  had, 
unquestionably,  an  exquisite  feeling,  entirely  his  own,  for  what- 
ever is  most  graceful  in  nature.  His  imitation  of  the  antique, 
and  of  early  Italian  art,  occasionally  betrayed  him  into  a  manner 
somewhat  pedantic  ;  yet  it  is  not  that  mere  mimicry  which  the 
Germans  of  the  present  day  (I  am  writing  in  1843),  have  fallen 
into.  He  imitated  classical  art  as  N.  Poussin  did,  with  constant 
reference  to  nature.  Allston  told  me  that,  having  complimented 
Flaxman  on  his  designs  from  Homer,  Dante,  &c,  the  latter  said, 


48 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  III. 


"  I  will  now  show  you  the  sources  of  many  of  them,"  and  he  laid 
before  him  a  great  number  of  sketches  from  nature,  of  accidental 
groups,  attitudes,  &c,  which  he  had  seen  in  the  streets,  and  in 
rooms.  I  have  myself  seen  Flaxman  stop  in  the  street  to  make  a 
sketch  of  some  attitude  that  struck  him.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  his  outlines,  particularly  the  series  from  Dante,  led  the  way 
to  what  the  Germans  are  now  doing.  They  began  by  outlines 
from  Faust,  &c,  and  are  now  all  becoming  little  children  in  art, 
as  they  seem  to  fancy,  by  imitating  the  infancy  of  the  Italian 
schools.  But  they  forget  that  the  charms  of  infancy  cannot  be 
assumed.  Hence,  though  their  works,  by  a  mere  external  re- 
semblance to  early  art,  may  deceive  the  superficial,  all  who  are 
really  capable  of  separating  that  which  is  the  essence,  from  that 
which  only  belongs  to  the  accidents  of  the  age,  the  country,  &c, 
must  see  that  nothing  can,  in  reality,  be  less  like  the  art  of  Giotto, 
and  the  infancy  of  Raphael's  style,  than  what  the  Germans  seem 
almost  desirous  of  palming  on  the  world  for  veritable  designs  by 
those  masters.  The  mantle  of  Raphael  has  not  yet  fallen  among 
them. 

Flaxman  and  Stothard  would  have  been  among  the  foremost 
artists  in  the  days  of  Julius  II.  and  Leo  X.,  but  England,  in  the 
times  of  George  III.  and  IV.,  was  utterly  unworthy  of  them. 
The  British  aristocracy,  with  the  exception  of  Lord  Egremont, 
patronised  Canova,  and  almost  every  English  sculptor  rather  than 
Flaxman,  the  greatest  of  all.  He  was,  indeed,  above  their  com- 
prehension, and  thus  he  found  time,  while  his  chisel  was  unem- 
ployed, for  his  outline  compositions  ;  works  which  are  looked  to 
as  a  mine  of  wealth  by  all  European  sculptors,  and  from  which 
painters  as  well  as  sculptors,  British  and  foreign,  have  largely 
helped  themselves. 

Canova,  who  was  a  noble-minded  man,  took  every  opportunity 
of  pointing  out  the  merits  of  Flaxman  to  the  English  nobility 
while  they  were  crowding  his  studio,  and  giving  him  commissions 
which  he  was  sometimes  obliged  to  refuse.  "  You  English,"  he 
said,  "  see  with  your  ears."  * 

Lord  Egremont,  an  exception  to  this  reproach,  employed  Flax- 
man on  his  noble  group  of  the  Archangel  Michael  piercing  Satan, 
*  This  I  was  told  by  Mr.  Rogers. 


CHAP.  III.] 


FLAXMAN  AND  CHANTREY. 


40 


and  on  a  beautiful  figure  of  a  pastoral  Apollo  ;  but  whatever  other 
patronage  he  may  have  received  from  the  nobility,  it  was  miser- 
ably scanty  for  so  great  a  genius.  What  must  foreigners  think 
who  visit  London  (and  who,  if  they  have  any  taste,  must  be  well 
acquainted  with  the  powers  of  Flaxman)  when  they  walk  through 
our  streets  and  squares,  and  meet  with  no  work  of  his  hand  ex- 
cepting only  one  of  the  statues  and  the  bas-reliefs  in  front  of 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  for  which  his  country  is  indebted  solely 
to  the  private  regard  of  the  architect,  and  John  Kemble,  for 
Flaxman  ? 

I  have  been  told  by  Mr.  Baily,  that  Flaxman  would  not  have 
been  employed  on  the  statue  of  Nelson  for  St.  Paul's,  had  it  not 
been  that  the  hero  himself  was  acquainted  with  him,  and  was 
known  to  have  said,  "  If  ever  there  should  be  a  statue  erected 
of  me,  I  hope,  Flaxman,  you  will  carve  it."  He  had  competed 
unsuccessfully  for  the  monument  in  St.  Paul's,  and  when,  for  the 
reason  mentioned,  it  was  agreed  by  the  committee  of  taste  that 
he  should  make  the  statue  of  Nelson,  he  was  desired  to  work 
from  Westmacott's  design,  which  the  committee  preferred  to  his 
own  !  ! 

He  submitted,  but  never  competed  again.  Chantrey  was  wiser, 
and  never  competed  on  any  occasion.  As  a  man,  he  was  as  dif- 
ferent from  Flaxman  in  manner  as  in  appearance.  Handsome 
(his  mouth  exceedingly  beautiful),  with  a  bluff  John  Bull  look, 
and  a  bluntness  of  manner  not  quite  pleasant,  but  playful,  witty, 
and  in  general  good  natured.  His  strong  native  sense  and  tact 
compensated  for  his  entire  want  of  book  learning.  He  was  an 
admirable  speaker ;  always  clear,  forcible,  and  to  the  purpose, 
with  not  a  word  too  many  or  too  few,  the  effect  of  what  he  said 
being  aided  by  a  fine,  deep  voice. 

With  respect  to  his  art,  he  seems  to  me  the  Reynolds  of  por- 
trait sculpture.  Excepting  the  first  portrait  Lawrence  painted  of 
West,  and  the  one  he  painted  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  for  Sir 
P.  Peel,  all  the  portraits  I  have  seen  by  his  hand  are  far  sur- 
passed by*  Chantrey 's  busts,  whenever  the  same  people  sat  to 
both.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  Chantrey  made  so  few 
busts  of  women.  One  I  remember  of  a  German  princess,  a  re- 
lation, I  think,  of  Queen  Adelaide,  was  exceedingly  lovely.  It 
4 


50 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  III. 


was  posthumous,  and  made  from  a  cast  taken  after  death.  The 
bust  of  Queen  Victoria  I  thought  also  a  charming  work.  It  is 
saying  but  little  for  it,  that  it  is  by  far  the  best  yet  made. 
Chantrey  often  showed  his  powers  most  when  he  had  an  in- 
different subject.  His  bust  of  William  IV.  appeared  to  me  a 
great  triumph  of  art.  He  managed  to  preserve  a  very  strong 
likeness,  and  without  gross  flattery  contrived  to  give  a  kingly 
air  to  it,  of  which  certainly  honest  King  William  had  very 
little. 

I  had  painted  a  portrait  of  a  nobleman,  of  whom  Chantrey 
had  just  made  a  bust,  and  I  asked  him  if  I  could  do  anything  to 
make  my  picture  more  like*  He  had  not  formed  a  very  high 
opinion  of  the  inside  of  his  Lordship's  head,  and  pointing  to  the 
ears,  he  said,  "  Make  them  longer." 

The  friends  of  a  lad  who  had  determined  on  applying  himself 
to  sculpture,  consulted  me  about  placing  him  with  a  master.  I 
recommended  Chantrey,  and  meeting  him  a  day  or  two  afterwards 
in  the  Antique  School  at  the  Academy,  I  asked  him  if  he  took 
pupils.  u  No ;  why  do  you  ask  ?  "  I  told  him  that  a  young 
friend  of  mine  would  be  glad  to  study  with  him.  "  I  can  teach 
him  nothing,"  he  said,  "  let  him  come  here."  "  He  does,  but  how 
is  he  to  learn  the  use  of  the  chisel  ?  "  "  Any  stone  mason  can  teach 
him  that  better  than  I  can.  He  must  become  a  workman  before 
he  can  be  a  sculptor.  One  great  fault  of  our  sculptors  is  that 
few  of  them  are  workmen." 

Edwin  Landseer,  the  best  of  mimics,  gave  a  capital  specimen 
of  Chan  trey's  manner,  and  at  Chantrey's  own  table.  Dining  at 
his  house  with  a  large  party,  after  the  cloth  was  removed  from 
the  beautifully  polished  mahogany —  Chantrey's  furniture  was  all 
beautiful  —  Landseer's  attention  was  called  by  him  to  the  re- 
flections, in  the  table,  of  the  company,  furniture,  lamps,  &c. 
"  Come  and  sit  in  my  place  and  study  perspective,"  said  our 
host,  and  went  himself  to  the  fire.  As  soon  as  Landseer  was 
seated  in  Chantrey's  chair,  he  turned  round,  and  imitating  his 
voice  and  manner,  said  to  him,  "  Come  young  man,  you  think 
yourself  ornamental ;  now  make  yourself  useful,  and  ring  the 
bell."  Chantrey  did  as  he  was  desired  —  the  butler  appeared, 
and  was  perfectly  bewildered  at  hearing  his  master's  voice,  from 


CHAP.  III.] 


CHANTEEY. 


.51 


the  head  of  the  table,  order  more  claret,  while  he  saw  him  stand- 
ing before  the  fire. 

The  only  time  I  ever  met  Lord  Jeffrey,  was  at  Chantrey's.  I 
sat  next  to  him  at  dinner,  and  found  him  delightful. 

I  also  met  Colonel  Gurwood  there.  He  could  talk  of  nothing 
but  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  Speaking  of  the  publication  of  his 
Dispatches,  he  said,  "  I  have  unveiled  a  great  man  to  the  world. 
He  is  the  greatest  creature  God  Almighty  ever  created.  But 
he  don't  write  so  well  now  as  he  did,  for  he  thinks  every  thing  he 
writes  will  be  printed,  and  he  takes  pains." 

If  proof  were  wanted  of  the  superiority  of  Chantrey's  mind,  it 
would  be  found  in  the  fact  that  his  most  intimate  associates  were 
such  men  as  Davy  and  Wollaston ;  and  that  such  men  delighted 
in  his  conversation.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  delighted  to  learn 
from  them,  for,  like  every  artist  who  deserves  the  title  of  an  artist, 
he  was  greatly  interested  in  all  natural  science.  On  such  sub- 
jects, I  have  so  often  heard  him  quote  Davy  and  Wollaston,  that 
I  feel  sure  nothing  he  heard  them  say  was  lost  on  him. 

If  Chantrey's  busts  possess  many  of  the  highest  qualities  of 
the  portraits  of  Reynolds,  Jackson's  best  pictures  approach  them 
the  nearest  in  colour. 

The  first  time  I  remember  to  have  seen  Jackson  was  in  the 
autumn  of  1813,  and  at  the  British  Institution,  where  we  were 
at  the  same  time  engaged  in  copying  the  same  picture,  the  por- 
trait of  John  Hunter,  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  I  knew  nothing 
then  of  Jackson's  merits  as  a  portrait  painter,  and  was  not  dis- 
posed to  rate  him  highly  from  what  I  saw  of  his  mode  of  proceed- 
ing at  the  Institution.  He  seemed  to  me  to  be  going  on  very 
much  at  random,  smearing  asphaltum  and  lake  over  his  canvass 
in  what  I  thought  a  very  unartistlike  manner,  and  I  fancied  my 
copy  would  be  much  the  best  of  the  two.  In  short,  I  formed  an 
opinion  of  Jackson  as  opposite  as  possible  to  that  which  he  really 
deserved.  I  supposed  him  to  be  a  conceited  fellow,  who  affected 
singularity  not  only  as  an  artist,  but  as  a  man,  for  at  that  time  he 
wore  knee  breeches  with  brown  silk  stockings.  Breeches  were 
then  sometimes  worn,  but  the  brown  stockings  puzzled  me. 

Many  years  afterwards,  I  saw  his  copy  of  the  John  Hunter  at 
the  house  of  Sir  Charles  Bell,  and  had  I  not  been  told  what  it 


52 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  III. 


was,  I  might  have  mistaken  it  for  the  original.  Still  later  in  life, 
I  met  with  my  own  copy.  There  is  certainly  no  danger  that  it 
will  ever  pass  for  a  work  of  Reynolds.  I  afterwards  learned  to 
value  Jackson's  art  as  well  as  himself.  As  a  man,  he  was  most 
amiable.  It  seemed  scarcely  possible  that  the  serenity  of  his  tem- 
per could  be  ruffled.  I  saw  him  often,  but  I  never  saw  him  in  an 
ill  humour  under  any  circumstances.  Though  inclined  to  taci- 
turnity, he  had  a  great  deal  of  natural  drollery,  and  the  soundness 
of  his  sense  may  be  shown  by  a  single  sentence,  whether  it  origi- 
nated with  him  or  whether  he  quoted  it.  "  Whatever  is  worth 
doing,"  he  said,  "  for  the  sake  of  example,  must  be  worth  doing 
for  its  own  sake."  What  a  contrast  is  this  to  the  sophistry  of 
Horace  Walpole,  who  says,  "  I  go  to  church  sometimes  in  order 
to  induce  my  servants  to  go  to  church.  I  am  no  hypocrite.  I 
do  not  go  in  order  to  persuade  them  to  believe  what  I  do  not 
believe  myself.  A  good  moral  sermon  may  instruct  and  benefit 
them.  I  only  set  them  an  example  of  listening,  not  of  believ- 
ing." 

I  often  spent  my  Sundays  at  Walthamstow,  in  the  family  of 
William  Dillwyn,  a  venerable  Quaker  gentleman.  He  was  from 
Philadelphia,  and  had  known  West  before  he  left  America ;  and 
it  was  from  him  I  heard  the  singular  story  of  the  first  meeting 
between  John  West  and  his  eldest  son,  who  had  never  seen  each 
other  till  the  latter  was  fifty  years  of  age.  A  strict  adherence  to 
the  rules  of  his  sect  had  not  quenched  the  natural  vivacity  of  Mr. 
Dillwyn.  He  had  known  Dr.  Franklin,  who  carried  him  one  day 
to  the  gallery  of  the  House  of  Commons.  As  soon  as  they  were 
seated,  the  Doctor  whispered  to  him  that  a  gentleman,  immedi- 
ately before  them,  was  Garrick.  The  great  actor  had  a  friend 
with  him,  and  Mr.  Dillwyn  overheard  snatches  of  his  conversa- 
tion. On  Garrick  being  asked  how  it  was  that  with  his  abilities 
he  had  never  thought  of  getting  into  Parliament,  he  said,  "  I  have 
quite  farce  enough  at  my  own  house." 

Mr.  Dillwyn's  son  told  me  that  his  father,  in  his  younger  days, 
was  in  a  stage  coach  with  a  party  of  military  officers.  One  of 
them,  a  pert,  effeminate,  young  dandy,  undertook  to  quiz  the  plain 
Quaker,  and  after  some  indifferent  jokes,  asked  him  at  an  inn 
where  they  stopped,  to  hold  his  sword  for  a  minute,  supposing 


CHAP.  III.] 


DILLWYN,  THE  QUAKER. 


53 


he  would  consider  it  an  abomination  to  touch  it.  Mr.  Dillwyn, 
however,  eying  the  young  man  from  head  to  foot  said,  "  As  I 
believe  from  thy  appearance  it  has  never  shed  human  blood, 
and  is  not  in  the  least  likely  to  do  so,  I  have  not  the  smallest 
objection." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Wilkie  —  Visit  to  Scotland  —  Visit  to  Abbotsford  —  Anecdote  of  Mrs.  Coutts  — 
Walter  Scott  at  Home  —  Visit  to  Edinburgh. 

Lord  Egremont  had  asked  Phillips  to  go  fifty  miles  into  the 
country  to  make  a  sketch  of  one  of  his  grandchildren,  who  was 
at  the  point  of  death.  Phillips,  unable  to  leave  town,  proposed 
that  I  should  go,  and  this  circumstance  first  made  me  known  to 
Lord  Egremont.  When  I  reached  the  house  of  Colonel  Wynd- 
ham,  the  father  of  the  little  girl,  she  had  just  died.  I  sat  up  all 
night,  making  sketches  from  her  very  beautiful  face,  and  after- 
wards painted  a  small  picture  from  them.  When  Lord  Egremont 
asked  me  what  he  was  to  pay  for  it,  I  said  twenty  guineas.  "  But 
your  travelling  expenses  must  be  paid."  I  told  him  they  were 
five  guineas,  as  I  had  posted  to  the  house,  and  he  immediately 
wrote  me  a  cheque  for  fifty. 

Soon  after  this  he  desired  me  to  paint  him  a  picture,  leaving 
the  subject  and  size  to  my  own  choice,  and  I  painted  "  Sancho 
Panza  in  the  Apartment  of  the  Duchess."  A  few  days  before 
the  picture  went  to  the  Exhibition  Wilkie  called  on  me,  and,  after 
paying  me  some  compliments,  with  which  I  was  greatly  delighted, 
as  coming  from  him,  he  said  :  "  I  think  you  may  improve  your 
picture  very  much  by  giving  it  more  depth  and  richness  of  tone. 
Don't  be  afraid  of  glazing.  The  practice  of  our  artists  is  running 
too  much  into  a  light  and  vapid  style  which  will,  in  the  end,  ruin 
the  art.  I  am  trying,  in  my  own  pictures,  to  avoid  this  as  much 
as  possible,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  talk  you  over.  I  have  a  pic- 
ture by  Isaac  Ostade,  which  has  exactly  the  qualities  I  should 
like  to  see  you  give  to  this.  Can  you  come  to  Kensington  this 
afternoon  and  look  at  it,  for  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost  ?  "  I  said 
I  would  gladly  do  so,  and  as  Newton  intended  to  call  on  him  to 


chap,  iv.]  WILEIE.  55 

see  the  pictures  he  was  about  to  send  to  the  exhibition,  I  would 
ask  him  to  go  with  me.  "  No,"  said  Wilkie,  "  I  would  rather  see 
him  at  some  other  time ;  I  can  talk  better  to  one  than  to  two."  I 
went,  and  saw  his  beautiful  little  picture  from  Allan  Ramsay's 
"  Gentle  Shepherd,"  of  Jenny  and  Peggy  dressing  themselves,  a 
fine  specimen  of  richness  and  depth  of  chiaroscuro.  Indeed,  but 
for  Wilkie's  modesty,  he  might  just  as  well  have  explained  to  me 
all  his  notions  of  tone  and  effect  from  this  picture  as  from  the 
Isaac  Ostade.  But  he  dwelt  eloquently  on  the  beauties  of  the 
latter,  and  concluded  by  exclaiming,  in  a  voice  of  despair,  "  Are 
we  never  to  see  this  done  again  ?  "  I  might  have  answered,  "  No  ; 
but  we  may  see  something  equally  good  though  different  in  kind, 
as  your  own  pictures  prove.  No  form  of  art  has  ever  been  ex- 
actly repeated  with  success."  But  I  was  more  disposed  to  listen 
with  respect  to  all  he  said  than  to  interrupt  him,  even  with  a  com- 
pliment. I  felt  the  distance  between  us  as  artists,  and  I  felt 
greatly  obliged  by  his  taking  the  trouble  to  help  me  where  I 
knew  I  wanted  help.  I  was  struck  with  the  warmth,  earnestness, 
and  animation  of  his  manner,  so  unlike  anything  I  had  before 
observed  in  him,  and  I  felt  convinced  that  he,  like  all  first-rate 
men,  had  nothing  more  seriously  at  heart  than  the  advance  of 
every  member  of  his  profession.  As  well,  indeed,  might  we  ex- 
pect to  find  a  sincerely  religious  man  indifferent  to  the  advance- 
ment of  piety,  as  to  meet  with  a  really  great  artist  unconcerned 
for  the  general  advancement  of  art.  It  would  be  absurd  to  claim 
for  my  own  profession  any  exemption  from  the  infirmities  of  hu- 
man nature,  —  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  greatest  painters, 
and  very  good  men  among  them,  have  not  been  free  from  jeal- 
ousies of  their  contemporaries,  —  but,  to  judge  from  my  own  ex- 
perience, I  should  say  that  bad  feelings  rankle  most  among  the 
inferior  artists,  where  their  effects,  from  the  comparative  obscurity 
of  the  individuals,  are  least  known  or  noticed.  I  remember  an 
amateur  painter  making  a  great  noise  in  the  hall  of  the  Academy, 
during  the  arrangement  of  an  exhibition,  because  he  had  heard 
that  his  picture  was  not  well  hung.  Constable  and  I  went  down 
to  pacify  him.  He  accused  several  of  the  members  of  jealousy, 
and  said,  "  I  cannot  but  feel  as  I  do,  for  painting  is  a  passion  with 
me."    "  Yes,"  said  Constable,  "  and  a  bad  passion." 


50 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IV. 


While  my  picture  of  "  Sancho  and  the  Duchess "  was  in  the 
Exhibition,  Lord  Egremont  called  on  me  and  asked  if  I  had  re- 
ceived any  commission  for  a  similar  picture.  I  told  him  I  had 
not,  and  he  said  :  "  Then  paint  me  a  companion  to  it,  and  if  any- 
body should  wish  to  have  it,  let  it  go,  and  paint  me  another.  I 
wish  to  keep  you  employed  on  such  subjects  instead  of  portraits." 

Soon  after  this  I  received  commissions  for  fancy  subjects  from 
Lord  Essex,  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  and  others,  and  Lord  Egre- 
mont desired  me  to  execute  them  and  reserve  the  one  he  had 
given  me  until  I  should  be  in  want  of  employment. 

In  the  autumn  of  1824  I  visited  Scotland  for  the  purpose  of 
painting  a  portrait  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  for  Mr.  Ticknor  of  Bos- 
ton. Newton  had  gone  with  Irving  on  an  excursion,  which  he 
afterwards  extended  to  Scotland,  and  as  Edwin  Landseer  was 
also  bound  for  the  north,  he  and  I  left  London  together,  in  the 
steamboat,  for  Edinburgh.  I  there  found  Newton,  and,  as  I 
learned  that  Sir  Walter  was  not  at  Abbotsford,  we  agreed  to 
make  a  short  trip  to  the  Highlands.  We  passed  through  Glas- 
gow, visited  Loch  Lomond  and  Loch  Katrine,  whence  we  walked 
across  the  mountains  to  Loch  Earn,  to  be  present  at  an  annual 
meeting  of  Highlanders,  under  the  patronage  of  Lord  Gwydyr, 
at  which  prizes  were  distributed  to  the  best  performers  on  the 
bagpipes,  the  best  dancers,  broadswordsmen,  &c. 

It  was  a  bright  fresh  autumnal  morning  when  we  left  Loch 
Earn  head  for  the  other  end  of  the  lake,  a  distance  of  seven 
miles,  in  a  large  row-boat,  in  which,  besides  ourselves,  were  a 
number  of  Highlanders  —  men,  women,  and  children.  As  we 
passed  down  the  lake,  the  rowers  amused  us  with  stories  of  the 
fairies  that  inhabited  its  shores  ;  these  stories  being  matters  of 
serious  belief  with  them.  Occasionally  we  heard  the  distant 
sound  of  bagpipes,  and  as  they  neared  us  the  hills  were  enlivened 
by  the  appearance  of  parties  of  Highlanders  in  full  costume,  each 
headed  by  a  piper,  and  all  bound  for  the  place  of  rendezvous. 
This  little  voyage  afforded  us  an  enjoyment  of  the  Highlands, 
with  all  that  is  native  to  them,  in  perfection.  The  amusement  of 
the  games  which  we  afterwards  witnessed  was  nothing  to  the 
delight  of  gliding  gently  down  the  clear  smooth  lake  with  such 
accompaniments. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


VISIT  TO  ABBOTSFORD. 


57 


We  afterwards  visited  Stirling  and  Ayr ;  the  latter  being  to  me 
the  most  interesting  spot  in  Scotland,  associated  as  the  town  itself 
and  the  scenery  of  its  neighbourhood  is  with  Burns.  A  lover  of 
Burns  (and  who  does  not  love  him)  may  imagine  the  feelings 
with  which  we  crossed  the  "  Brigs  of  Ayr,"  listened  to  "  the 
drowsie  donjon  clock,"  looked  up  to  Wallace  Tower,  visited  the 
cottage  in  which  the  bard  was  born,  and  Kirk  Alloway,  and 
strolled  by  the  side  of  the  "  Bonny  Doon,"  where  Burns  had  so 
often  strayed,  composing  his  enchanting  songs.  I  bathed  in  its 
exquisitely  clear  stream.  "  What  are  those  mountains  ?  "  I  asked 
of  an  old  man,  who  said  he  had  often  had  a  gill  of  whiskey  with 
Burns.  They  were  "  the  Cumnock  Hills."  "  What  a  delightful 
companion  Burns  must  have  been."  "  Oh,  not  at  all ;  he  was  a 
silly  chiel ;  but  his  brother  Gilbert  was  quite  a  gentleman  —  like 
you,"  he  said,  looking  at  Newton,  whose  appearance  and  manner 
were  remarkably  good. 

A  Scotch  gardener  told  me  that  he  knew  the  original  Tam-o'- 
Shanter.  I  forget  his  name,  but  he  was  very  proud  of  being 
immortalized  by  Burns,  though  he  said  that  part  of  the  poem  in 
which  his  wife  rates  him  for  his  drunkenness,  was  "  a  lee  ;  for 
there  never  was  a  better-tempered  woman,  and  she  never  scolded 
me  in  a'  her  life." 

From  Ayr  I  returned  direct  to  Edinburgh,  where  I  left  New- 
ton, and  proceeded  to  Abbotsford.  I  carried  from  John  Murray 
to  Sir  Walter  a  mourning  ring,  which  had  been  left  to  him  by 
Lord  Byron. 

The  following  is  a  quotation  from  a  letter  I  wrote  from  Abbots- 
ford  :  "  The  Countess  of  Compton,  her  mother  (Mrs.  Clephane), 
and  her  two  sisters,  have  been  here  for  the  last  three  days.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Terry  are  here  :  Lady  Alvanley  and  her  two  daughters 
arrived  yesterday  to  dinner  :  and  late  in  the  evening  came  Mrs. 
Coutts,  attended  by  a  lady,  a  secretary,  a  doctor,  and  I  don't 
know  how  many  servants.  Mr.  Stewart  Rose  is  also  here.  This 
list  will  give  you  some  notion  of  the  hospitalities  of  Abbotsford. 
Mr.  Canning  is  expected,  but  not  till  October,  and  so  I  shall  not 
see  him.  I  have  had  three  sittings  from  Sir  Walter,  and  the 
general  opinion  is  that  the  portrait  will  be  like." 

During  one  of  these  sittings,  there  came  on  a  thunder-storm  ; 


58 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IV. 


and  as  the  peals  followed  more  and  more  closely  the  flashes  of 
lightning,  Scott  became  uneasy,  and  at  last  rose  from  his  chair, 
saying,  "  I  must  go  to  Lady  Scott,  she  is  always  frightened  when 
it  thunders." 

It  is  curious  that  the  only  circumstance  connected  with  Scott 
and  related  by  Lockhart,  of  which  I  was  a  witness,  is  incorrectly 
stated  in  his  Life  of  Sir  Walter.  Lockhart  places  Mrs.  Coutts's 
visit  to  .Abbotsford  in  1825,  instead  of  1824;  and  tells  us  she 
was  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  St.  Albans  and  one  of  his 
grace's  sisters,  and  by  "  a  brace  of  physicians,"  evidently  con- 
founding this  visit  with  one  she  paid  to  Sir  Walter  in  Edinburgh 
in  the  following  year,  when  the  Duke  and  one  of  his  sisters  were 
of  her  party,  and  when  she  may  have  had  two  physicians,  which 
was  certainly  not  the  case  when  she  was  at  Abbotsford  in  1824. 

But  Lockhart's  chief  inaccuracy  is  in  the  account  he  gives  of 
the  ill-manners  of  some  of  Scott's  lady  visitors  towards  Mrs. 
Coutts,  and  the  result.  After  saying  that  they  contrived  to  mor- 
tify her  "  without  doing  or  saying  anything  that  could  expose 
them  to  the  charge  of  actual  incivility,"  he  tells  us  that  Sir  Wal- 
ter remonstrated  with  the  "youngest,  gayest,  and  cleverest  (a 
lovely  Marchioness),"  that  she  took  the  remonstrance  in  good 
part,  promised  better  behaviour,  and  that  she  and  the  rest  directly 
became  as  civil  to  Mrs.  Coutts  as  they  had  before  been  the  re- 
verse ;  that  Mrs.  Coutts  was  pacified,  and  "  stayed  her  three 
days." 

Now  I  have  no  doubt  Sir  Walter  did  remonstrate  with  the 
beautiful  Lady  Compton  (who  was  not  then  a  Marchioness),  for 
I  remember  that  Lady  Compton  was  very  polite  to  Mrs.  Coutts 
in  the  evening,  and  sat  down  to  the  piano  to  accompany  her  in  a 
song  which  she  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  sing,  but  could  not 
utter  a  note.  Her  wounded  spirit,  in  fact,  was  not  healed ;  and 
instead  of  staying  "  her  three  days,"  she  slept  at  Abbotsford  but 
one  night,  after  the  night  of  her  arrival,  and  went  away  the  next 
morning. 

Stuart  Newton  was  at  Abbotsford  at  the  time.  About  a  year 
afterwards  he  was  taken  by  a  friend  to  one  of  Mrs.  Coutts's  fetes 
at  Holly  Lodge,  and  on  saying  that  he  had  "  had  the  honour  of 
meeting  her  at  Sir  Walter  Scott's,"  she  said,  "  Oh  !  I  remember, 


chap,  iv.]  ANECDOTE  OF  MRS.  COUTTS.  §9 


it  was  when  those  horrible  women  were  there.  Sir  Walter  was 
very  kind,  and  did  all  in  his  power,  but  I  could  not  stay  in  the 
house  with  them." 

I  believe  the  rudeness  Mrs.  Coutts  suffered  at  Abbotsford  was 
chiefly  occasioned  by  what  had  occurred  before  she  came.  She 
was  expected  the  day  before  she  did  arrive ;  the  dinner  hour, 
seven  o'clock,  came,  but  not  Mrs.  Coutts ;  at  first,  nobody  could 
feel  aggrieved  that  Sir  Walter  would  not  allow  dinner  to  be 
served.  But  no  doubt  the  ladies  (two  of  them  titled  ladies) 
thought  it  too  much  that  dinner  was  deferred  till  nine  o'clock, 
and  might  have  been  longer  postponed,  had  not  a  messenger  ar- 
rived from  Mrs.  Coutts,  to  say  that  she  was  delayed  on  the  road 
by  the  want  of  horses,  and  could  not  reach  Abbotsford  that  night. 

It  was  not  unnatural,  therefore,  that  ladies,  by  no  means  pre- 
possessed in  her  favour,  and  feeling  that  more  deference  had  been 
paid  her  by  their  host  than  was  due  to  anything  less  than  Royal- 
ty, should  be  somewhat  out  of  humour  with  her  beforehand ;  and 
though  this  is  no  excuse  for  their  ill-breeding,  it  may  account 
for  it. 

Constable,  the  publisher,  spent  a  day  at  Abbotsford  while  I 
was  there.  He  told  Sir  Walter  that  Meg  Dodds,  a  name  given 
to  the  mistress  of  an  inn  halfway  between  Edinburgh  and  Ab- 
botsford, and  who  was  supposed  to  have  furnished  the  original  of 
that  character,  said  "  Sir  Walter  had  ill-obliged  her  by  not  giving 
her  notice  that  so  great  a  lady  as  Mrs.  Coutts  was  coming,  in 
order  that  she  might  be  prepared  to  receive  her  properly.  She 
was  taken  by  surprise,  when  she  ought  to  have  been  informed 
that  the  greatest  woman  in  all  England  was  on  her  way  to  visit 
the  greatest  man  in  all  Scotland  ;  indeed  she  might  say  Sir  Walter 
was  the  greatest  man  in  the  world,  now  Bonaparte  was  dead." 

The  following  is  from  one  of  my  letters :  — 

"  I  am  painting  in  the  library.  When  Sir  Walter  is  seated  I 
always  place  a  chair  in  the  direction  in  which  I  wish  him  to  look, 
which  is  never  long  unoccupied  by  some  one  of  his  visitors,  who 
is  sure  to  keep  him  in  conversation.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
room  there  is  generally  a  group  round  the  harp  or  piano.  Im- 
agine how  delightful  these  sittings  are  to  me. 

"  This  morning,  being  Sunday,  Sir  Walter  read  the  Church 


GO 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  IV. 


Service  to  the  whole  family  and  his  guests,  in  an  impressive  man- 
ner." 

When  I  began  the  portrait,  Scott  suggested  that  for  the  back- 
ground I  should  take  "  Thomas  the  Rhymer's  Glen,"  one  of  his 
favourite  haunts.  I  went  with  him  and  Mr.  Rose  to  see  it,  and 
when  we  came  near  the  spot  where  Thomas  was  supposed  to 
have  met  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies,  Sir  "Walter  and  I  dismounted 
from  our  ponies,  and  as  the  descent  into  the  glen  was  steep,  I 
offered  to  help  him  ;  but  he  declined  assistance,  saying,  he  could 
get  along  best  in  his  own  way ;  and,  indeed,  he  displayed  more 
activity  than  I  could  have  expected,  considering  his  lameness, 
scrambling  down  the  sides  of  the  glen,  often  on  all  fours.  He 
told  me  that  in  his  youth  he  had  been  an  adventurous  climber, 
though  no  one  would  suppose  it,  as  his  lame  leg  was  of  scarcely 
any  use  to  him. 

The  glen  was  beautiful,  and  as  he  rested  himself  in  his 
favourite  seat  near  a  little  succession  of  waterfalls,  he  said,  with 
a  strong  emphasis  of  satisfaction  on  the  two  last  words,  "  a  poor 
thing,  but  mine  ow?i"  I  told  him  the  dimensions  of  my  picture 
would  not  admit  the  scene  as  a  background,  as  its  leading  features 
could  not  be  brought  into  so  small  a  compass.  I  might,  however, 
have  made  a  sketch  of  it  with  Sir  Walter  in  the  spot  he  loved, 
and  my  only  excuse  for  not  doing  it  is  that  Mr.  Rose,  who  Was 
too  infirm  to  descend  into  the  glen,  was  waiting  for  us  above. 
As  we  returned,  I  remember  Rose  saying  he  had  never  known 
anybody  who  had  read  Voltaire's  "  Henriade "  through.  Scott 
replied,  "  I  have  read  it,  and  live ;  but,  indeed,  in  my  youth  I 
read  everything." 

Sir  Walter  had  appropriated  to  his  friend  Rose,  whose  in- 
firmities were  occasioned  by  paralysis,  a  sitting-room  with  a  bed- 
room adjoining  it  on  the  ground  floor,  the  latticed  windows  of 
which,  shaded  by  flowers,  looked  into  the  garden.  Here  Rose 
could  seclude  himself  when  he  liked,  and  pursue  a  task  Scott  had 
engaged  him  in,  a  translation,  I  think,  of  Ariosto.  Scott  thought 
that  some  such  easy  employment  of  the  mind  would  be  service- 
able to  his  health.  The  luxurious  table  at  Abbotsford  would, 
however,  have  rendered  Sir  Walter's  kind  intentions  useless,  had 
not  Rose  practised  a  rigid  system  of  self-denial. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


WALTER  SCOTT  AT  HOME. 


61 


When  Lady  Scott  offered  to  help  him  to  some  rich  delicacy, 
he  said  —  "  No,  madam,  I  believe  in  a  hereafter" 

Rose  was  able  to  shoot,  with  the  assistance  of  his  man,  Hen- 
viss,  who  carried  his  gun ;  and  when  he  went  out  for  a  morning's 
sport,  he  wore  a  great  coat  without  sleeves,  for  the  better  con- 
venience of  using  his  arms.  His  under-coat,  differing  in  colour 
from  the  outer  one,  gave  him  a  very  odd  appearance,  his  body 
being  brown  and  his  arms  black.  Henviss  raised  the  gun  to  his 
shoulder  for  him,  and  Rose  said  —  "  When  I  fire  I  never  know 
whether  the  birds  are  to  fall  or  myself."  But  he  generally  man- 
aged to  kill  them  notwithstanding  his  lameness.  Henviss  was  an 
odd,  half-witted  fellow,  and  Scott  said  he  reminded  him,  more 
than  any  man  he  had  ever  met  with,  of  the  motley  fools  in 
Shakespeare.  Rose  had,  in  fact,  provided  Henviss  with  some 
sort  of  antic  dress  which  he  made  him  wear  by  way  of  pun- 
ishment, when  he  had  behaved  amiss ;  but  Henviss  took  a  fancy 
to  it,  and  would  often  put  it  on  for  his  own  gratification.  He 
wanted  to  wear  it  at  Abbotsford,  but  to  this  Sir  Walter  objected, 
saying  —  "I  have  no  reputation  for  wisdom  to  spare  in  my  own 
neighbourhood,  and  I  cannot  afford  to  fall  lower  in  the  estimation 
of  the  country-people  by  permitting  Henviss  to  be  seen  about 
the  place  in  a  fool's  dress."  Rose  told  many  droll  stories  of  Hen- 
viss ;  but,  as  he  related  many  out  of  the  way  things  of  other 
people,  it  was  thought  these  stories  owed  quite  as  much  to  the 
master  as  to  the  man.  Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliott,  herself  a  wit, 
said,  after  listening  for  some  time  to  Rose :  — 

"  What  a  great  number  of  very  odd  people  you  have  known." 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  he  replied. 

"  Well,  then,  I  am  very  sure  all  Mr.  Rose's  acquaintance  know 
one  very  odd  person." 

During  one  of  Sir  Walter's  sittings  to  me,  the  conversation 
turned  on  Quakers,  and  he  was  surprised  to  hear  that  I  had 
painted  the  portraits  of  several,  for  he  thought  they  objected  to 
pictures,  as  well  as  to  music.  He  said,  "  They  must  have  been 
what  are  called  wet  Quakers."  I  assured  him  they  were  not,  but 
he  would  have  it  that  "  at  least,  they  were  damp  Quakers." 

Scott  told  me  he  had  known  a  labouring  man  who  was 
with  Burns  when  he  turned  up  the  mouse  with  his  plough. 


62 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IV. 


Burns's  first  impulse  was  to  kill  it,  but  checking  himself,  as  his 
eye  followed  the  little  creature,  he  said,  "  I'll  make  that  mouse 
immortal."  He  mentioned  this  as  an  instance  of  Burns's  confi- 
dence in  his  own  powers. 

I  was  much  interested  by  seeing  in  the  library  at  Abbotsford, 
an  autograph  manuscript  of  "  Tarn  O'Shanter."  There  were, 
either  in  this  MS.,  or  Scott  had  noted  that  there  were  in  some 
other  copy,  two  lines  that  had  never  been  printed.  They  oc- 
curred after 

"  The  landlord's  laugh  was  ready  chorus:  " 

and  ran  thus  : 

"  The  cricket  join'd  his  chirping  cry, 
The  kittling  chas'd  its  tail  wi'  joy." 

Scott  had  remarked,  in  a  note,  that  Burns  probably  rejected  them 
from  the  resemblance  to  Goldsmith's  line,  — 

"  The  cricket  chirrup'd  on  the  hearth." 

He  had  once  seen  Burns,  and  described  his  eye  as  remarkably 
fine ;  it  was  dark,  and  seemed  to  dilate  when  he  became  excited. 
I  have  lately  met  Major  Burns,  one  of  the  poet's  sons.  I  looked 
at  him  with  great  interest,  which  was  increased  by  his  modest  and 
unassuming  manners,  in  which  I  am  sure  he  must  have  re- 
sembled his  father,  whose  genius  was  of  too  high  an  order  to  be 
accompanied  by  any  personal  assumption  or  display. 

While  strolling  with  Sir  Walter  about  his  own  grounds,  a 
pleasure  I  often  enjoyed,  he  would  frequently  stop  and  point  out 
exactly  that  object  or  effect  that  would  strike  the  eye  of  a  painter. 
He  said  he  always  liked  to  have  a  dog  with  him  in  his  walks,  if 
for  nothing  else  but  to  furnish  a  living  object  in  the  foreground  of 
the  picture ;  and  he  noticed  to  me,  when  we  were  among  the 
hills,  how  much  interest  was  given  to  the  scene  by  the  occasional 
appearance  of  his  black  greyhound,  Hamlet,  at  unexpected 
points.  He  talked  of  scenery  as  he  wrote  of  it  —  like  a  painter ; 
and  yet  for  pictures,  as  works  of  art,  he  had  little  or  no  taste,  nor 
did  he  pretend  to  any.  To  him  they  were  interesting  merely  as 
representing  some  particular  scene,  person,  or  event  ;  and  very 
moderate  merit  in  their  execution  contented  him.  There  were 
things  hanging  on  the  walls  of  his  dining-room,  which  no  eye 


CHAP.  IV.] 


WALTER  SCOTT  AT  HOME. 


63 


possessing  sensibility  to  what  is  excellent  in  art  could  have  en- 
dured. In  this  respect  his  house  presented  a  striking  con- 
trast to  that  of  Mr.  Rogers,  where  nothing  met  the  eye  which 
was  not  of  high  excellence.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  in 
music  also,  Scott's  enjoyment  arose  chiefly  from  the  associations 
called  up  by  the  air,  or  the  words  of  a  song.  I  have  seen  him 
stand  beside  the  piano  or  harp  when  Lady  Compton,  Miss 
Clephane,  or  Mrs.  Lockhart  were  playing  Highland  music,  or  a 
military  march,  his  head  and  whole  figure  slightly  moving  in 
unison  with  the  instrument,  and  with  an  expression  in  his  face  of 
inward  delight,  that  told,  more  plainly  than  any  words  could  tell, 
how  thoroughly  he  relished  the  performance.  He  had  kept  a 
piper,  but  this  personage  was  dismissed  before  the  time  of  which 
I  am  writing :  I  believe  for  drunkenness.  Sir  Walter,  as  might 
be  supposed,  was  fond  of  the  bagpipe,  and  contended  that  it 
was  really  a  fine  instrument,  independently  of  all  national  asso- 
ciations. 

His  conversation  was  enriched  with  quotations,  often  made 
highly  humorous  by  their  application.  I  remember  his  comparing 
the  sound  of  the  dinner-bell,  for  which,  he  said,  he  had  "  a  very 
quick  ear,"  to 

"  the  sweet  south, 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Stealing  and  giving  odour." 

There  was  more  benevolence  expressed  in  Scott's  face  than  is 
given  in  any  portrait  of  him  ;  and  I  am  sure  there  was  much 
in  his  heart.  It  showed  itself  in  little  daily  acts  of  quiet  kind- 
ness to  everybody  about  him.  As  an  instance,  I  may  mention 
that  there  was  a  young  man,  educated  for  the  Church,  but  as  yet 
without  a  curacy,  living  at  Abbotsford.  He  was  so  deaf  as  to  be 
obliged  to  use  an  ear-trumpet.  Sir  Walter  always  placed  him  at 
his  side  at  dinner ;  and  when  anything  was  said  that  he  thought 

would  interest  Mr.   ,  he  turned  to  him,  and  dropped  it  into 

his  trumpet.  "  Look  at  Scott,"  Newton  whispered  to  me,  "  drop- 
ping something  into  's  charity -box." 

I  asked  Sir  Walter  where  I  should  be  likely  to  meet  with  a 
haggis.  "  I  don't  know  a  more  likely  place  than  the  house  you 
are  in,"  he  said;  and  the  next  day  a  haggis  appeared  on  the 


04 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IV. 


table.    It  was  placed  before  him,  and  he  greeted  it  with  the  first 

lines  of  Burns's  address  to  the  "  Chieftain  of  the  Pudding  Race." 

He  repeated  them  with  great  effect ;  and  at  the  words 

"  Weel  are  ye  worthy  of  a  grace 
As  lang 's  my  arm," 

he  extended  his  arm  over  the  haggis. 

It  was  curious  that  Mr.  Leycester  Adolphus's  "  Letter  to  Rich- 
ard Hcber,"  so  satisfactorily  proving  Scott  to  be  the  author  of 
the  Waverley  Novels,  was  lying  on  the  table  of  the  Abbotsford 
Library  at  that  time,  when  the  novels  were  never  mentioned  in 
Scott's  presence.  This  admirable  essay  not  only  carries  convic- 
tion on  the  point  it  was  written  to  establish,  but  contains  the  best 
critique  on  Scott's  prose  and  poetry  (for  an  entirely  favourable 
one)  ever  written. 

Sir  Walter's  old  and  faithful  servant,  Tom  Purdey,  is  men- 
tioned by  Lockhart.  I  made  a  small  whole-length  sketch  of  Tom 
for  Sir  Walter.  Purdey  was  in  bad  health,  and  his  master  was 
much  grieved  at  the  thoughts  of  losing  him ;  but  Tom  lived  till 
after  the  authorship  of  the  novels  was  acknowledged.  Mr.  Cadell 
told  me  that,  as  Sir  Walter  was  leaning  on  Purdey's  arm,  in  one 
of  his  walks,  Tom  said,  "  Them  are  fine  novels  of  yours,  Sir 
Walter  ;  they  are  just  invaluable  to  me."  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it, 
Tom."  "  Yes,  sir,  for  when  I  have  been  out  all  day,  hard  at 
work,  and  come  home,  vara  tired,  if  I  sit  down  with  a  pot  of  por- 
ter by  the  fire,  and  take  up  one  of  your  novels,  I'm  asleep  di- 
rectly." 

Somebody  spoke  of#clubs,  and  Scott  said,  "I  belong  to  many, 
but  I  don't  frequent  them,  for  there  is  always  a  scum  of  bores 
floating  on  the  surface  of  club  life.  And  yet  I  don't  dislike  a 
good  bore,  for  it  requires  a  clever  man  to  be  one." 

He  said,  "  I  never  knew  a  man  of  genius  —  and  I  have  known 
many  —  who  could  be  regular  in  all  his  habits,  but  I  have  known 
many  a  blockhead  who  could." 

Cadell  told  me  that,  in  allusion  to  the  opinion  that  Lord  By- 
ron's lameness  was  the  occasion  of  his  misanthropy,  he  said  to 
Scott,  "  Your  temper  has  not  suffered  from  the  same  misfortune," 
and  Scott  replied,  "  When  I  was  of  the  age  at  which  lads  like  to 
shine  in  the  eyes  of  the  girls,  I  have  felt  some  envy,  in  a  ball- 


CHAP.  IV.] 


VISIT  TO  EDINBURGH. 


65 


room,  of  the  young  fellows  who  had  the  use  of  their  legs  ;  but  I 
generally  found  when  I  was  beside  the  lasses  I  had  the  advantage 
with  my  tongue." 

When  I  left  Abbotsford  for  Edinburgh,  Scott  gave  me  a  packet 
for  Constable,  which,  no  doubt,  contained  manuscript.  I  think  he 
was  then  writing  the  "  Tales  of  the  Crusaders." 

At  Edinburgh  I  met  with  much  kind  attention  from  the  artists. 
Wilkie  was  there,  for  the  purpose  of  making  studies  of  the  Scot- 
tish Regalia,  &c,  for  his  picture  of  George  the  Fourth  entering 
Holyrood  House,  and  I  was  delighted  to  meet  him  in  the  capital 
of  his  own  country.  We  talked  of  Scott  and  of  Burns,  and  he 
remarked  that  it  was  a  fine  piece  of  art  in  Burns  to  make  an  ex- 
aggerated account  of  Tarn  O'Shanter's  excesses  dramatically  nat- 
ural, by  putting  it  into  the  mouth  of  his  angry  wife. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  my  sister  Ann  was  living 
with  me,  and  as  I  had  the  prospect  of  marrying  I  had  taken  a 
small  house  in  Lisson  Grove,  which  had  the  convenience  of  a 
large  painting  room  attached  to  it.  This  had  been  built  by  the 
owner  of  the  house,  Mr.  Rossi,  R.A.,  for  Mr.  Haydon,  and  it  was 
there  Haydon  painted  his  "  Christ  entering  Jerusalem." 

The  last  letter  I  received  from  my  sister,  while  on  my  visit  to 
Scotland,  hastened  my  return,  as  it  told  me  she  had  heard  that 
our  mother  was  dangerously  ill.  On  arriving  at  my  own  door, 
my  sister  met  me  in  deep  mourning.  She  had  been  sorrowing  at 
home,  while  I  had  been  revelling  in  enjoyment. 

My  mother  died  on  the  24th  July,  aged  fifty-seven,  at  the 
house  of  my  brother,  Captain  Leslie,  at  West  Point.  My  sister 
heard  this  soon  after  I  went  to  Scotland ;  but  did  not  acquaint  me 
with  it,  knowing  that  it  would  defeat  the  object  for  which  I  had 
gone. 


5 


CHAPTER  V. 


Lord  Holland  —  Lord  Egremont  —  Anecdote  of  Lord  Egremont  —  Petworth  — 
The  Rev.  Sidney  Smith  —  Anecdotes  of  Sidney  Smith — Constable,  the 
Painter  —  Walter  Scott  in  London  —  Alfred  and  John  Chalon. 

On  the  11th  April,  1825,  I  was  married ;  and  in  the  course  of 
the  same  year  I  received  a  visit  from  my  third  sister  Mrs.  Henry 
Carey,  her  husband,  and  his  sister  Maria.  I  had  not  seen  my 
sister  Carey  for  fourteen  years,  and  was  greatly  struck  with  the 
uncommon  sweetness  of  her  face  and  manner.  I  had  not,  when 
a  boy,  thought  her  even  pretty,  but  she  now  appeared  to  me 
beautiful.  I  was  perhaps  by  this  time  a  better  judge  of  beauty. 
Her  figure  was  slight  and  petite,  her  features  not  regular,  and 
her  complexion  dark,  though  very  clear.  But  her  eyes  were 
lovely,  full  and  grey,  with  long  black  lashes ;  she  had  beautiful 
dimples  ;  and  at  all  times  an  expression  of  so  much  good  sense, 
whether  joyous  or  sad,  and  manners  so  perfectly  natural  and  en- 
gaging, that  I  thought  her  one  of  the  most  charming  women  I 
had  ever  seen.  She  had  always  been  a  favourite  with  my  brother 
and  myself,  but  I  had  never  entirely  appreciated  her  till,  after  our 
long  separation,  we  met  again  as  new  acquaintances.  My  rela- 
tions made  a  short  excursion  in  England  through  some  of  the 
scenes  my  wife  and  I  had  visited  on  our  wedding  excursion ;  and, 
after  a  trip  to  Paris,  they  returned  to  America,  taking  my  sister 
Ann  with  them. 

Not  long  before  my  marriage,  I  had  been  introduced  to  Lord 
Holland.  I  painted  small  portraits  of  his  lordship,  of  his  beau- 
tiful daughter  Mary  (now  Lady  Lilford),  and  of  Lady  Affleck 
(Lady  Holland's  mother),  for  Lady  Holland.  These  were  all 
painted  at  Holland  House ;  and  from  that  time  I  had  frequent 
opportunities  of  being  present  at  the  delightful  breakfast  and 


CHAP.  V.] 


LOKD  HOLLAND. 


07 


dinner  parties  that  took  place  every  day  in  that  fine  old  mansion. 
Among  the  guests  whom  I  met  there  most  often,  were  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  Mr.  Richard  Sharpe,  Mr.  Rogers,  Mr.  Luttrell,  and 
Mr.  Thomas  Moore. 

Lord  Holland  was,  without  any  exception,  the  very  best  tem- 
pered man  I  have  ever  known.  How  much  more  he  was  than 
merely  a  good-tempered  man,  has  been,  and  will  no  doubt  again 
be,  recorded  by  persons  far  better  able  than  I  am  to  describe  him. 
Of  the  grace  with  which  he  could  confer  a  favour,  the  following 
letter  addressed  to  me,  affords  a  specimen.  It  enclosed  a  cheque 
for  one  hundred  guineas  for  the  portraits  I  had  painted  of  himself 
and  of  his  daughter,  that  sum  being  forty  guineas  more  than  I 
expected  to  receive. 

"  10th  June,  1829. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  When  you  were  so  good  as  to  undertake  to  paint  a 
portrait  of  my  daughter,  I  understood  from  Lord  Egremont  that 
you  charged  only  thirty  guineas  for  works  of  that  nature  and  size. 
But  after  the  great  trouble  you  have  taken,  and  the  great  success 
you  have  had  in  those  you  have  painted  for  me,  I  am  really 
ashamed  of  repaying  such  works  at  so  low  a  rate ;  and  I  hope 
you  will  do  me  the  favour  of  accepting  the  enclosed  for  the  two 
pictures  finished  and  framed  as  you  will  deliver  them  to  me. 
The  price,  even  in  its  amended  shape,  bears  no  proportion  what- 
ever to  the  value  I  annex  to  the  works  ;  but  it  unfortunately  does 
bear  a  more  correct  one  to  the  sum  that  I  can  with  any  prudence 
devote  to  such  objects. 

"  I  am,  Dear  sir,  with  many  thanks, 

"  Your  obliged  and  obedient  servant, 

"Vassall  Holland." 

Lord  Holland  was  fond  of  talking  of  his  uncle,  Charles  Fox, 
and  repeating  his  bon  mots.  But  Lord  Holland  had  a  wit's  relish 
for  wit.  When  Stuart  the  painter  died,  a  eulogium  on  his  char- 
acter appeared  in  one  of  the  American  papers,  in  which  it  was 
said  that  he  left  the  brightest  prospects  in  England,  and  returned 
to  his  own  country,  from  his  admiration  of  her  new  institutions, 


68 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  v. 


and  a  desire  to  paint  the  portrait  of  Washington.  On  hearing 
this,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  said  :  "  I  knew  Stuart  well ;  and  I 
believe  the  real  cause  of  his  leaving  England  was  his  having 
become  tired  of  the  inside  of  some  of  our  prisons."  "  Well, 
then,"  said  Lord  Holland,  "  after  all,  it  was  his  love  of  freedom 
that  took  him  to  America." 

A  saying  that  perhaps  was  invented  for  Lady  Holland,  is  still 
so  like  her,  and  so  good,  that  I  will  put  it  down.  When  Moore's 
"  Lalla  Rookh  "  appeared,  she  is  reported  to  have  said  to  him  : 
"  Mr.  Moore,  I  don't  intend  to  read  your  Larry  O'fiourke,  I  don't 
like  Irish  stories."  She  was  hard  to  please  in  all  kinds  of  stories  ; 
few  people  told  them  as  well  as  she  did. 

In  the  autumn  of  1826,  Lord  Egremont  invited  Mrs.  Leslie  and 
myself  to  Petworth,  where  we  spent  a  month.  From  that  time 
to  the  end  of  Lord  Egremont's  life,  we  were  regularly  invited  to 
Petworth,  with  our  children,  every  year.  Besides  the  picture  I 
had  painted  for  him  of  "  Sancho  and  the  Duchess,"  I  painted 
three  others  of  the  same  class,*  and  was  engaged  on  a  fourth  at 
the  time  of  his  death.  I  painted  also  small  portraits  of  his  daugh- 
ters, Lady  Burrell  and  Mrs.  King. 

He  was  the  most  munificent,  and  at  the  same  time  the  least 
ostentatious,  nobleman  in  England.  Plain  spoken,  often  to  a  de- 
gree of  bluntness,  he  never  wasted  words,  nor  would  he  let  others 
waste  words  on  him.  After  conferring  the  greatest  favours,  he  was 
out  of  the  room  before  there  was  time  to  thank  him.  When  he 
first  noticed  me,  he  had  almost  entirely  retired  from  London, 
living  at  Petworth,  and  benefiting  the  people  about  him,  in  every 
way  in  his  power. 

His  personal  habits  were  the  most  simple  possible;  and  his 
manner  naturally  shy  and  retiring.  He  might  easily  be  mis- 
taken, by  those  who  knew  him  but  slightly,  for  a  proud  person ; 
but,  as  Sir  William  Beechey  said  of  him,  he  "  had  more  4  put-up- 
ability  '  than  almost  any  other  man."  He  would  bear  a  great 
deal  before  he  would  take  the  trouble  to  be  angry ;  but  when 
angry  it  was  to  the  purpose,  and  I  have  known  him,  in  more  than 

*  Scene  from  the  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew;"  Gulliver's  introduction  to  the 
Queen  of  Brobdignag;  Charles  II.  at  Tillietudlem  Castle,  from  "  Old  Mor- 
tality." —  Ed. 


CHAP.  V.] 


LORD  EGREMONT. 


69 


one  instance,  order  persons  to  leave  his  house,  who,  encouraged 
by  his  good-nature  and  the  easy  footing  on  which  they  found 
themselves  at  Petworth,  had  forgotten  where  they  were,  and  be- 
haved as  if  that  noble  mansion  were  but  a  great  hotel. 

His  liveries  were  extremely  plain,  and  there  were  neither  arms 
nor  coronet  on  any  of  his  carriages.  Wilkie  was  at  Petworth 
during  one  of  our  visits,  and  Lord  Egremont  took  him  and  me, 
one  morning,  to  Chichester.  On  the  way,  he  stopped  to  show  us 
Goodwood  ;  but  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Richmond  being  from 
home,  he  asked  for  the  housekeeper.  The  servants  did  not  know 
him,  and  we  were  kept  waiting  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the 
hall.  Lord  Egremont  showed  some  impatience,  ordered  his  foot- 
man to  ring  the  bell  again,  and  said :  "  I  would  go  away,  only 
they  will  think  we  are  a  parcel  of  thieves."  He  had  some  busi- 
ness to  transact  at  Chichester ;  but  one  of  his  objects  was  to 
show  us  a  young  girl,  the  daughter  of  an  upholsterer,  who  was 
devoted  to  painting,  and  considered  to  be  a  genius  by  her  friends. 
She  was  not  at  home ;  but  her  mother  said  she  could  soon  be 
found,  "  if  his  lordship  would  have  the  goodness  to  wait  a  short 
time."  The  young  lady  soon  appeared,  breathless  and  exhausted 
with  running.  Lord  Egremont  mentioned  our  names,  and  she 
said,  looking  up  to  Wilkie  with  an  expression  of  great  re- 
spect, "  Oh,  sir !  it  was  but  yesterday  I  had  your  head  in  my 
hands."  This  puzzled  him,  as  he  did  not  know  she  was  a  phre- 
nologist. 

"  And  what  bumps  did  you  find  ?  "  said  Lord  Egremont. 

"  The  organ  of  veneration,  very  large,"  was  her  answer ;  and 
Wilkie,  making  her  a  profound  bow,  said  : 

"  Madam,  I  have  a  great  veneration  for  genius." 

She  showed  us  an  unfinished  picture  from  "  The  Bride  of  Lam- 
mermoor."  The  figure  of  Lucy  Ashton  was  completed,  and,  she 
told  us,  was  the  portrait  of  a  young  friend  of  hers  ;  but  Ravens- 
wood  was  without  a  head,  and  this  she  explained  by  saying, 
"  there  are  no  handsome  men  in  Chichester.  But,"  she  con- 
tinued, her  countenance  brightening,  "the  Tenth*  are  expected 
here  soon." 

All  this  was  uttered  with  an  air  so  perfectly  simple  and  innor 
*  A  regiment  noted  for  its  handsome  officers. 


70 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  v. 


cent,  that  it  was  the  more  amusing,  and  Lord  Egremont  was 
highly  diverted. 

As  his  lordship,  from  that  "  put-up-a  Jj7%  "  of  his  character 
which  Beechey  noticed,  seldom  changed  his  servants,  some  of  the 
upper  ones  were  as  old  as  himself ;  and  these  not  being  in  livery, 
and  his  own  dress,  in  the  morning,  being  very  plain,  he  was  some- 
times by  strangers  mistaken  for  one  of  them.  This  happened 
with  a  maid  of  one  of  his  lady  guests,  who  had  not  been  at  Pet- 
worth  before.  She  met  him,  crossing  the  hall,  as  the  bell  was 
ringing  for  the  servants'  dinner,  and  said  :  "  Come,  old  gentle- 
man, you  and  I  will  go  to  dinner  together,  for  I  can't  find  my  way 
in  this  great  house."  He  gave  her  his  arm,  and  led  her  to  the 
room  where  the  other  maids  were  assembled  at  their  table,  and 
said  :  "  You  dine  here,  I  don't  dine  till  seven  o'clock." 

He  was  very  fond  of  children,  and  while  he  was  dressing,  his 
grandchildren  were  generally  brought  into  his  room.  He  asked 
for  ours  at  the  same  time,  and  they  always  came  away  each  with 
a  sugar-plum,  or  some  other  little  present. 

On  matters  of  art  Lord  Egremont  thought  for  himself;  and  his 
remarks  were  worth  remembering.  He  said  to  me :  "  I  look 
upon  Raphael  and  Hogarth  as  the  two  greatest  painters  that  ever 
lived."  When  the  picture  of  the  "Vision  of  St.  Jerome,"  by 
Parmegiano,  now  in  the  National  Gallery,  was  bought  for  a  large 
sum  by  the  Directors  of  the  British  Institution,  Lord  Egremont, 
who  happened  to  be  in  London,  called  on  me,  and  asked  me  if  I 
had  a  catalogue  of  the  British  Institution.  "  I  want  to  see,"  he 
said,  "  who  are  the  men  who  have  given  so  much  money  for  that 
broken-backed  St.  John.  A  poor  way,  I  think,  of  encouraging 
the  art." 

The  following  is  one  of  his  letters  relating  to  a  picture 
he  wished  me  to  paint  as  a  companion  to  "  Sancho  and  the 
Duchess : " 

"Dear  Sir, 

"  You  said  that  you  would  show  me  a  design  when  you 
came  to.  Petworth,  and  I  wish  to  explain  that,  by  a  companion 
picture,  I  did  not  mean  to  confine  you  to  the  story  of  Don  Quix- 
ote.   On  the  contrary,  I  have  never  seen  any  representation  of 


CHAP.  V.] 


PETWORTH. 


71 


the  Don  that  satisfied  me,  and  I  believe  that  it  is  impossible  to 
represent  all  the  absurdity  and  ridicule  of  his  character,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  dignity  of  his  mind,  and  the  grandeur  of  his 
sentiments,  by  painting  only,  without  the  addition  of  language. 

"  Ever  yours  truly,  &c. 

"  Egremont." 

The  kind  manner  in  which  we  were  invited  to  Petworth  will 
be  seen  in  the  following  note,  in  answer  to  one  which  I  wrote 
declining  an  invitation,  in  consequence  of  our  having  spent  as 
much  time  as  I  could  then  spare  from  home  at  Brighton.  My 
letter  accompanied  a  picture  I  had  painted. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  The  picture  is  quite  safe,  and  wants  nothing.  I  hope 
you  have  some  great  works  in  hand,  but  whenever  you  feel  an 
inclination  for  some  country  air  for  your  children,  I  hope  you  will 
give  the  preference  to  Petworth,  where  you  will  find  me  at  any 
time,  and  always  happy  to  see  you. 

"  Ever  truly  yours, 

"  Egremont." 

"  Petworth,  August  Uth,  1832." 

It  was  impossible  to  move  many  steps  in  the  town  of  Petworth 
without  meeting  with  something  to  remind  one  of  the  benevolent 
feelings  of  him  who  might  be  called  its  king.  Mr.  Sockett,  the 
rector,  pointed  out  to  me  on  a  tomb  this  epitaph,  written  by  Lord 
Egremont :  — 

Here  lieth  the  Body 
of 

WILLIAM  ANDRE, 
A  man  of  the  most  blameless  conduct,  and  the  most  inoffensive  manners.  To 
his  professional  skill  hundreds  have  been  indebted  for  health  and  life. 
From  his  hands  thousands  have  received,  by  Vaccination,  security  against 
that  most  destructive  of  all  diseases,  the  small-pox.    Reader,  if  thou  art  a 
stranger,  learn  that  these  benefits  were  gratuitously  conferred ;  if  thou  art 
a  neighbour,  remember  them  with  gratitude,  and  respect  his  tomb. 
He  died  Dec.  4,  1807, 
Aged  64  Years. 

I  at  this  time  became  acquainted  with  Sidney  Smith,  through 


72 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  v. 


my  friend  Newton.  His  wit  and  humour  were  always  unpremed- 
itated, and  seemed  not  so  much  the  result  of  efforts  to  amuse,  as 
the  overflowing  of  a  mind  full  of  imagery,  instantly  ready  to 
combine  with  whatever  passed  in  conversation.  His  very  exag- 
gerations took  away  the  sting  of  his  most  personal  witticisms,  and 
I  suppose  no  man  was  ever  so  amusing  with  so  little  offence  ;  for 
those  who  were  the  subjects  of  his  jokes  were  often  the  most  ready 
to  relate  them.  When  a  discussion  took  place  among  the  clergy 
of  St.  Paul's,  as  to  the  expediency  of  surrounding  the  cathedral 
with  a  pavement  of  blocks  of  wood,  Smith  said,  "  If  the  bishops 
would  lay  their  heads  together,  the  thing  would  be  done  : "  and 
this  was  so  often  repeated,  and  with  so  much  unction,  by  the 
Bishop  of  London,  that  he  was  suspected  of  having  invented  it. 

I  happened  to  be  in  Newton's  room  when  Mr.  Smith  came  in 
to  sit  for  his  portrait.  He  looked,  in  the  arm  chair,  very  like 
Newton's  picture  of  Abbot  Boniface  ;  and  indeed  he  suspected 
Newton  of  taking  a  hint  for  the  portly  figure  of  the  Abbot  from 
him.  "  I  sit  here,"  he  said,  "  a  personification  of  piety  and  absti- 
nence." 

Newton  told  me  that  at  a  dinner  party  at  Lord  Lyndhurst's,  at 
which  he  was  present,  the  conversation  turned  on  the  custom,  in 
India,  of  widows  burning  themselves,  an  instance  of  which  was 
recent.  When  the  subject  was  pretty  well  exhausted,  Smith 
began  to  defend  the  practice,  asserting  that  no  wife  who  truly 
loved  her  husband  could  wish  to  survive  him. 

"  But,  if  Lord  Lyndhurst  were  to  die,  you  would  be  sorry  that 
Lady  Lyndhurst  should  burn  herself." 

"  Lady  Lyndhurst,"  he  replied,  "  would  no  doubt,  as  an  affec- 
tionate wife,  consider  it  her  duty  to  burn  herself,  but  it  would  be 
our  duty  to  put  her  out ;  and,  as  the  wife  of  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
Lady  Lyndhurst  should  not  be  put  out  like  an  ordinary  widow. 
It  should  be  a  state  affair.  First,  a  procession  of  the  judges,  and 
then  of  the  lawyers." 

"  But  where,  Mr.  Smith,  are  the  clergy  ?  " 

"  All  gone  to  congratulate  the  new  Chancellor." 

At  the  back  of  Holland  House,  a  window  is  distinguished  from 
all  the  rest  by  an  iron  grating  over  it.  This  window  communi- 
cates with  Lady  Holland's  bedroom,  and  she  had  it  grated  when 


CHAP.  V.] 


THE  REV.  SIDNEY  SMITH. 


73 


she  heard  of  a  gentleman  and  his  wife  being  murdered  in  their 
bed  by  a  servant,  who  entered  their  room  through  a  back  window. 
Sidney  Smith  gave  another  account  of  this  window.  "  Allen,"  he 
said,  "  keeps  a  clergyman  in  confinement  there,  upon  bread  and 
water."    Mr.  Allen's  dislike  to  the  clergy  was  no  secret. 

I  met  Sidney  Smith  at  a  dinner  party  at  Mr.  Rogers's.  Sid- 
ney's brother  was  there,  and  told  us  of  his  having  been  at  school 
with  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  with  whom  he  had  the  honour  of 
fighting,  but  the  Duke  beat  him.  "  He  began  with  you,"  said 
Sidney,  "  and  ended  with  Bonaparte." 

Mr.  Luttrell  mentioned  an  Irish  clergyman  who  was  much 
offended  at  being  called  a  "pluralist"  and  said,  "  if  you  don't 
take  care  you  will  find  me  a  duelist"  Smith  took  this  up,  and 
said,  "  I  suppose  there  is  scarcely  a  clergyman  in  Ireland  who  has 
not  been  out"  I  am  told  they  settle  these  matters  when  the 
afternoon's  service  is  over.  I  have  seen  a  parson's  challenge  :  — 
"  Sir,  meet  me  on  the  first  Sunday  after  the  Epiphany." 

I  was  greatly  amused  with  him  at  a  large  evening  party  at 
Mrs.  Bates's  house.  He  had  been  suffering  from  gout,  and  re- 
mained seated  near  the  door,  watching  the  arrivals  of  the  guests, 
and  their  reception  by  the  hostess.  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  said  to 
her,  "  that  you  know  all  these  people  ?  "  "  Oh,  no  ! "  "  Well, 
then,  you  do  it  remarkably  well,  for  you  not  only  seem  to  know 
them  all,  but  to  love  them  all.  Can  you  tell  an  American  at  first 
sight  ?  I'm  sure  I  can't."  And  then,  observing  a  lady  with  an 
uncommonly  splendid  turban  on  her  head,  he  added,  "  I  should 
say  there  is  a  bit  of  U.  S."  —  and  he  happened  to  be  right. 

Many  things  were  invented  for  him  which  he  never  said, 
among  them  the  story  of  Landseer  asking  to  paint  him,  and  his 
reply  —  "  Is  thy  servant  a  dog  that  he  should  do  this  thing  ?  " 

This  was  in  the  newspapers,  and  Sidney  Smith  meeting  Land- 
seer in  the  Park,  said  :  — 

"  Have  you  seen  our  little  joke  in  the  papers  ?  " 

"  Are  you  disposed  to  acknowledge  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  objection." 

Soon  after  his  pamphlet  appeared  against  American  repudia- 
tion, my  friend,  Captain  Morgan,  arrived,  and  brought  from  New 
York  some  very  fine  apples.    I  suggested  to  him  to  send  a  barrel 


74 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  v. 


to  Sidney  Smith,  and  beg  his  acceptance  of  them  as  his  share  of 
the  American  debt.  Morgan  received  two  notes  in  reply.  The 
first  is  published,  and  the  second  ran  thus  — 

"  Sir, 

When  I  told  my  company  that  your  apples  came  from 
a  solvent  State,  they  were  eaten  with  great  applause." 

He  enclosed  his  poetical  receipt  for  a  salad. 

Sidney  Smith,  after  travelling  for  some  hours  in  a  stage  coach 
with  one  other  passenger  only,  a  lady,  said,  as  he  was  about  to 
leave  the  coach : 

"  We  have  been  some  time  together,  and  I  dare  say  you  think 
me  a  very  odd  fellow,  and  would  like  to  know  who  I  am." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  I  should." 

"  Well  then,  madam,"  he  said,  as  the  coach  stopped,  and  he 
was  getting  out,  "  I  must  inform  you  that  I  am  the  stout  gentle- 
man who  was  seen  by  Mr.  Washington  Irving's  nervous  friend." 

Mr.  Rogers  told  me  that  Smith  received  invitations  to  dine  with 
Whitbread  and  with  some  peer  at  the  same  time.  He  accepted 
Whitbread's,  and  wrote  to  the  peer  that  he  "  was  engaged  to  dine 
with  the  great  fermentator  in  Chi  swell  Street."  But,  putting  his 
answers  into  the  wrong  covers,  his  excuse  to  the  peer  went  to  the 
brewer,  and  Lady  Elizabeth  Whitbread  replied,  "  The  great  fer- 
mentator is  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Smith  for  giving  him  the  prefer- 
ence." He  answered,  "  I  have  received  your  ladyship's  note,  and 
kill  myself  on  the  spot." 

Edwin  Landseer  said  to  him :  "  With  your  love  of  humour,  it 
must  be  a  great  act  of  self-denial  to  abstain  the  theatres." 

"  The  managers,"  he  repjied,  "  are  very  polite ;  they  send  me 
free  admissions,  which  I  can't  use ;  and,  in  return,  I  send  them 
free  admissions  to  St.  Paul's." 

Like  Sterne's  Yorick,  Sidney  Smith  has  been  thought  to  in- 
dulge too  much  in  a  levity  unbecoming  a  clergyman,  and  by  some 
people  the  sincerity  of  his  faith  has  been,  like  Yorick's,  doubted. 
It  is  true  he  assumed  no  outward  garb  of  sanctity  ;  and  if  to  be  a 
Christian,  it  be  necessary  to  be  a  Methodist,  he  was  not  one.  But 
those  who  knew  him  most  intimately,  speak  of  him  as  not  neg- 


chap,  v.]  ANECDOTES  OF  SIDNEY  SMITH.  75 

lecting  any  of  his  serious  duties ;  and  Lady  Bell,  who  soon  after 
the  death  of  her  husband  passed  some  time  with  his  family  at  his 
living,  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  his  active  benevolence  among 
his  parishioners.  It  must  be  remembered,  also,  how  constantly 
his  wit  was  employed  against  enormous  abuses,  and  particularly 
in  the  Church  ;  how  constantly  he  raised  his  voice  in  behalf  of 
the  poor  and  hard-working  clergy. 

A  friend  of  mine,  who  had  opportunities  of  knowing  him  well, 
characterised  him  as  "  the  greatest  disperser  of  humbug  that  ever 
lived" 

I  had  heard,  and  with  great  admiration,  Sidney  Smith  preach, 
many  years  before  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing.  I  thought 
him  the  best  preacher  I  ever  heard,  and  I  know  of  no  better  ser- 
mons than  those  he  has  published. 

There  are  passages  in  them  tinged  with  the  wit  which  made 
him  so  delightful  a  companion  out  of  the  pulpit,  but  this  does  not 
in  the  least  impair  their  seriousness.  He  seems  to  me,  in  these 
discourses,  to  be  at  all  times  equally  earnest,  eloquent,  and  sound 
in  the  view  he  takes  of  his  subject,  and  the  more  I  read  them  the 
more  I  find  them  to  contain. 

He  carried  the  natural  cheerfulness  of  his  mind  into  his  relig- 
ion. I  remember,  the  first  time  I  heard  him  preach,  —  and  be- 
fore I  knew  anything  else  of  him  than  that  he  was  an  admirable 
preacher,  —  he  strongly  objected  to  melancholy  views  of  religion. 
He  said  with  great  emphasis,  "  I  want  you  to  enjoy  your  relig- 
ion." 

Among  my  brother  artists,  the  two  with  whom  I  was  the  most 
intimately  associated,  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  were 
Newton  and  Constable  ;  but  Newton  lived  so  much  in  society,  and 
.in  that  respect  his  habits  were  so  different  from  my  own,  that  I 
found  myself  less  with  him  than  with  Constable. 

Of  all  the  painters  I  have  known  —  and  I  have  been  intimate 
with  all  the  most  eminent  of  my  time  —  Constable  was  to  me  the 
most  interesting,  both  as  a  man  and  an  artist.  I  have  been  told 
that  my  great  admiration  of  his  pictures  arose  out  of  my  personal 
acquaintance  with  him ;  but  the  reverse  was  really  the  case  ;  my 
acquaintance  with  him  arose  out  of  my  admiration  of  his  pictures. 
I  cultivated  his  friendship  because  I  liked  his  art.    There  are 


76 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  v. 


many  estimable  men,  artists,  for  whom  I  have  the  greatest  regard, 
but  of  whose  works  that  regard  cannot  make  me  an  admirer. 

A  lively  Quaker  lady,  a  daughter  of  my  excellent  friend,  Mr. 
Dillwyn,  considered  the  world  as  composed  of  two  classes  — 
"  those  who  have  souls,  and  those  who  have  none  ;  "  and  wherever 
she  may  have  drawn  the  line  of  separation,  I  am  sure,  could  she 
have  known  Constable  as  I  did,  she  would  have  admitted  him  into 
the  first  of  these  classes.  He  was  not  without  a  body  either,  and 
one  of  genuine  flesh  and  blood,  but  he  put  his  soul  into  his  art. 
When  he  said  he  "  thanked  Heaven  he  had  no  imagination,"  he 
meant  only  that  his  imagination  did  not  lead  him  into  what  he 
called  "  the  vacant  fields  of  idealism."  Nobody  knew  better  than 
Constable  that  without  imagination  there  could  be  no  true  art. 
His  manner  of  expressing  himself,  in  this  instance,  must,  there- 
fore, be  taken  in  reference  to  what  he  saw  in  the  works  of  many 
of  his  contemporaries,  who,  because  they  could  not  imitate  nature 
(the  most  difficult  of  all  things),  pretended  to  do  something  bet- 
ter, —  that  is,  to  produce  works  of  imagination. 

I  will  say  thus  much  for  myself,  that  I  always  preferred  to 
associate  as  much  as  I  could  with  my  superiors.  This  was 
another  reason  for  my  cultivating  the  friendship  of  Constable, 
and  I  never  felt  more  happy  than  when  I  found  he  gave  it  me. 
He  had  not  a  very  large  circle  of  friends ;  but  his  friends,  like 
the  admirers  of  his  pictures,  compensated  for  their  fewness  by 
their  sincerity  and  their  warmth. 

The  impression  his  character  made,  and  the  impression  his  art 
made,  and  I  may  say  the  impression  they  did  not  make,  were 
proofs  to  me  of  the  truth  of  Koscoe's  remark,  that  "  genius  as- 
similates not  with  the  character  of  the  age."  No  man  more 
earnestly  desired  to  stand  well  with  the  world ;  no  artist  was 
more  solicitous  of  popularity.  He  had,  as  the  phrenologists 
would  say,  the  love  of  approbation  very  strongly  developed.  But 
he  could  not  conceal  his  opinions  of  himself  and  of  others ;  and 
what  he  said  had  too  much  point  not  to  be  repeated,  and  too 
much  truth  not  to  give  offence.  It  is  not,  then,  to  be  wondered 
at,  that  some  of  his  competitors  hated  him,  and  most  were  afraid 
of  him.  There  was  also  that  about  him  which  led  all  who  had 
not  known  him  well  and  long;  to  consider  him  an  odd  fellow,  and 


chap,  v.]  WALTER  SCOTT  IN  LONDON. 


77 


a  great  egotist ;  and  an  egotist  he  was ;  but  then,  if  the  expres- 
sion may  be  allowed,  he  was  not  a  selfish  egotist.  "  By  self  he 
often  meant,"  as  Charles  Lamb  says  of  the  poet  Wither,  "  a 
great  deal  more  than  self —  his  friends,  his  principles,  his  country, 
the  human  race."  Few,  however,  knew  or  studied  him  suffi- 
ciently to  perceive  this.  He  was  opposed  to  all  cant  in  art,  to  all 
that  is  merely  specious  and  fashionable,  and  to  all  that  is  false  in 
taste.  He  followed,  and  for  his  future  fame  he  was  right  in  fol- 
lowing, bis  own  feelings  in  the  choice  of  subject  and  the  mode  of 
treatment.  With  great  appearance  of  docility,  he  was  an  uncon- 
trollable man.  He  said  of  himself,  "  If  I  were  bound  with  chains 
I  should  break  them,  and  with  a  single  hair  round  me  I  should 
feel  uncomfortable."  I  always  felt  inclined  to  say  to  him,  "  Do 
all  that  it  is  in  thine  heart  to  do  ;  "  and  I  was  happy  that  to  me 
he  said  all  that  it  was  in  his  heart  to  say.  Turner  was  a  very 
different  man  from  Constable,  and  yet  quite  like  him  in  one 
respect,  namely,  his  entire  reliance  on  a  guide  within  himself — 
always  a  characteristic  of  genius.  But  Constable  could  not  help 
talking  of  his  feelings,  of  his  views  of  art,  &c.  He  talked  well, 
and  this  made  him  extremely  interesting  to  those  who  could  feel 
with  him,  but  either  tiresome  or  repulsive  to  those  who  could  not. 
Turner  did  not  talk  well,  and  never  talked  of  his  own  art,  or  of 
the  art  of  others.  To  me,  therefore,  he  was  far  less  interesting 
than  his  pictures,  but,  at  the  same  time,  his  prudence  prevented 
his  giving  offence.  It  was  impossible,  however,  not  to  like 
Turner,  there  was  something  so  social  and  cordial  in  his  nature. 
I  believe  him  to  have  had  an  excellent  heart. 

In  the  spring  of  1828  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  in  London,  and  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Rogers, 
where  were  also  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  Lord  John  Russell,  Mr. 
Richard  Sharpe,  Fennimore  Cooper,  Chantrey,  Mrs.  Siddons, 
Miss  Fanshawe,  and  Miss  Rogers  —  such  an  assembly  as  I  can 
never  hope  to  meet  again. 

Daring  this  visit  to  London,  Sir  Walter  was  present  at  the 
anniversary  dinner  at  the  Royal  Academy  as  a  member,  having 
been  elected  antiquary  to  the  Academy  the  year  before.  After 
the  usual  toasts,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  said :  "  Before  we  part,  I 
have  to  propose  the  health  of  one  with  whose  presence  we  are 


78 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  v. 


honoured,  and  of  whom  it  may  well  be  said,  in  the  words  of  the 
poet  he  most  resembles, — 

"  If  he  had  been  forgotten, 
It  had  been  as  a  gap  in  our  great  feast, 
And  all  things  unbecoming." 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  toast  was  received  exceeded 
anything  of  the  kind  I  ever  witnessed,  and  when  Scott  rose  to 
reply,  the  applause,  for  some  time,  prevented  his  speaking.  As 
soon  as  he  could  be  heard,  he  said :  "  Mr.  President,  —  When 
you  acquainted  me  with  the  honour  the  Royal  Academy  had  done 
me  by  including  me  among  its  members,  you  led  me  to  believe 
that  the  place  would  be  a  sinecure.  But  I  now  find  that  I  then 
reckoned  without  my  host,  for  on  my  first  appearance  here,  as  a 
member,  I  am  called  on  to  perform  one  of  the  most  arduous  of 
duties,  that  of  making  a  speech."  He  then,  in  a  few  words,  re- 
turned thanks.    This  was  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  him. 

Of  the  many  portraits  of  him  Chantrey's  bust  is,  to  my  mind, 
the  most  perfect.  Lawrence  gave  him  a  pomposity  of  manner 
which  he  never  assumed  ;  but  in  Chantrey's  bust,  the  gentle  turn 
of  the  head,  inclined  a  little  forwards  and  down,  and  the  lurking 
humour  in  the  eye  and  about  the  mouth,  are  Scott's  own.  Chan- 
trey  watched  Sir  Walter  in  company,  and  invited  him  to  break- 
fast previous  to  the  sittings,  and  by  these  means  caught  the 
expression  that  was  most  characteristic.  The  first  bust  was  a 
commission  from  Scott,  and  when  breakfasting  with  Chantrey,  he 
said :  "  You  and  I  reverse  the  case  supposed  in  Scripture,  for  I 
have  asked  you  for  a  stone,  and  you  give  me  bread." 

On  the  7th  January,  1830,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  died  sud- 
denly. An  eminent  surgeon  told  me  he  believed  that  he  was 
bled  and  physicked  to  death  —  not  an  uncommon  occurrence  in 
those  good  old  times.  The  Royal  Academy  had  now  to  choose  a 
President,  and  the  election  took  place  on  the  25th,  when  Mr. 
Shee  had  eighteen  votes,  Sir  William  Beech ey  six,  Wilkie  two, 
Phillips  one,  and  Calcott  one.  Allan  Cunningham,  in  his  "  Life 
of  Wilkie,"  has  made  a  mistake  in  saying  he  had  but  one  vote, 
that  of  Collins.  I  also  voted  for  him,  for  I  considered  that  he 
united  more  requisites  for  the  high  office  than  any  other  man  in 


CHAP.  V.] 


ALFRED  AND  JOHN  CHALON. 


70 


the  Academy.  But  Sir  Martin  Shee  made  so  incomparable  a 
President,  that  I  am  glad  the  majority  did  not  think  as  Collins 
and  I  did  at  the  time  of  the  election. 

I  should  have  mentioned  that,  in  1828,  I  joined  a  small  society 
of  artists  that  had  then  been  established  for  twenty  years.  Its 
meetings  are  held  weekly,  on  Friday  nights,  during  the  months 
of  November,  December,  January,  February,  March,  and  April. 
The  members  assemble,  at  six  o'clock,  at  each  other's  houses  in 
rotation.  All  the  materials  for  drawing  are  prepared  by  the  host 
of  the  evening,  who  is,  for  that  night,  President.  He  gives  a  sub- 
ject, from  which  each  makes  a  design.  The  sketching  concludes 
at  ten  o'clock,  then  there  is  supper,  and  after  that  the  drawings 
are  reviewed,  and  remain  the  property  of  him  at  whose  house 
they  are  made. 

I  had  been  acquainted  with  Alfred  and  John  Chalon  for  many 
years  before  joining  this  society,  but  I  was  now  brought  into  a 
closer  intimacy  with  them  —  an  intimacy  that  I  count  among  the 
best  things  of  my  life. 

These  pleasant  evenings  also  enabled  me  to  appreciate  the 
delightful  social  qualities  of  Stanfield,  whose  friendship  from  that 
time  I  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  possess ;  and,  though  indif- 
ferent health  and  the  distance  at  which  I  live  from  most  of  the 
members,  led  me,  in  1842,  to  withdraw  from  the  society,  I  am 
still  admitted  to  its  meetings,  as  an  honorary  member,  when  I 
can  attend  them. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Appointment  in  America  —  Letter  of  Lord  Egremont  —  Arrival  in  New  York 
—  Sojourn  at  West  Point  —  Return  to  England  —  Samuel  Rogers  and 
Stotliard  —  Anecdotes  of  Stothard  —  Old  Lady  Cork  —  Newton,  the 
Painter. 

In  the  year  1833  my  brother,  without  consulting  me  (indeed 
there  was  no  time),  obtained  for  me  the  appointment  of  teacher 
of  drawing  at  the  Military  Academy  at  West  Point,  on  the  Hud- 
son River ;  and  he  and  my  sisters,  as  well  as  others  of  my  friends 
in  America,  strongly  urged  me  to  accept  it. 

The  inducements  they  held  out  were,  that  it  would  give  me  a 
fixed  income  for  life,  that  I  should  have  the  greater  part  of  my 
time  to  myself,  being  obliged  to  attend  the  school  only  for  two 
hours,  on  five  days  in  the  week ;  that  I  should  be  enabled  to  pro- 
cure an  excellent  education  for  my  sons  at  the  Academy,  free  of 
expense  ;  that  the  situation  was  a  very  healthy  and  beautiful  one, 
and  that  in  America  the  opportunities  of  settling  my  children  for 
life  were  better  than  in  England ;  that  I  should  have  a  conven- 
ient house  to  live  in,  to  which  a  commodious  painting-room 
would  (no  doubt)  be  added  at  the  expense  of  Government ;  and 
that  I  should  be  once  more  among  my  relations  and  early  friends. 
They  represented  to  me  that  I  could  form  no  notion  of  the  great 
improvements  in  all  respects  that  had  taken  place  in  America 
since  I  had  left  it ;  that  at  least  the  experiment  was  worth  a  trial ; 
and  that  if  I  did  not  like  the  change,  I  could  return  to  England, 
having  had  an  opportunity  of  visiting  my  relations  at  a  less  ex- 
pense of  time  and  money  than  would  be  possible  under  other  cir- 
cumstances. It  was  recommended  to  me  that  I  should  go  alone, 
and,  if  I  determined  to  remain,  my  wife  and  children  should  fol- 
low me. 

After  a  long  and  very  harassing  consideration  of  the  matter, 


chap,  vi.]  LETTER  OF  LORD  EGREMONT.  81 


and  after  consulting  those  of  my  friends  on  whose  judgment  I 
placed  the  greatest  reliance,  I  resolved  to  accept  the  situation, 
and  my  wife,  great  as  the  sacrifice  was  to  her,  determined  to  go 
with  me,  though  her  own  relations,  and  particularly  her  brother, 
did  not  think  very  favourably  of  the  scheme. 

I  had  not  consulted  Lord  Egremont  on  this  important  subject, 
as  I  ought  to  have  done.  But  the  distance  his  high  rank  created 
between  us  made  it  seem  to  me  that  it  would  be  taking  too  great 
a  liberty.  I  might  have  known  him  better ;  for  after  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  and  written  to  my  brother  on  the  subject,  I  received 
the  following  letter :  — 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing Mrs.  Leslie  and  you,  and  as  I  may  probably  never  go  so  far 
as  London  again,  I  have  no  chance  of  it  unless  you  will  come 
here  at  any  time  of  the  summer  that  may  suit  you,  and  I  shall 
be  very  happy  to  receive  you  at  any  time.  It  seems  to  me  that 
you  have  but  one  picture  in  your  own  style  in  the  Exhibition, 
and  the  others  are  a  scripture  subject  and  a  portrait. 

"  Ever  truly  yours,  &c, 

"  Egremont." 

"  Petworth,  June  10th,  1833." 

In  my  reply  to  this  kind  letter,  I  acquainted  Lord  Egremont 
with  my  intention  of  visiting  America,  and  this  brought  me  an- 
other letter,  which  I  really  think,  had  I  received  it  while  my 
mind  was  wavering,  would  have  kept  me  in  England. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  It  is  but  a  groundless  regret  at  my  age,  when  the 
course  of  nature  will  probably  settle  the  point  without  any  act  of 
yours  or  mine  ;  but  I  cannot  help  regretting  that  your  promised 
visit  to  Petworth  will  probably  be  the  last  time  that  I  shall  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  But  I  cannot  disguise  to  myself 
that  in  the  irritated  state  of  feeling  in  this  country,*  in  the  midst 

*  In  the  present  quiet  state  of  things  (in  1844),  it  would  be  difficult  for  those 
who  do  not  remember  the  excitement  produced  by  the  state  of  political  parties 
6 


82 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  VI. 


of  the  greatest  wealth  and  prosperity,  if  we  had  but  the  good 
sense  and  good  temper  to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  enjoy  it,  even 
if  it  should  subside  without  any  fatal  effects,  the  prospect  is  any- 
thing but  encouraging ;  and  I  believe  it  is  the  condition  of  hu- 
man nature,  that  almost  every  great  improvement  in  society  is 
counterbalanced  by  some  evil  arising  from  it,  which  is  not 
thought  of  till  it  happens,  and  so  now  the  great  diffusion  of  wealth 
and  health,  and  comfort  and  education,  produces  a  much  greater 
number  of  young  persons  seeking  situations  adapted  to  their  cul- 
tivated habits  and  manners,  than  there  are  situations  to  employ 
them. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  the  situation  to  which  you  are  going,  at  a 
considerable  distance  from  the  society  of  the  metropolis,  and  with 
two  or  three  hundred  troublesome  boys  under  your  care,  does  not 
seem  to  me  to  be  a  very  agreeable  one." 

After  some  very  kind  expressions  intimating  his  fear  that  I  was 
about  to  leave  England  on  account  of  want  of  employment,  Lord 
Egremont  thus  concludes : 

"  I  can  only  say  that  I  will  gladly  give  a  thousand  pounds  for  a 
companion  picture  to  Sancho  and  the  Duchess. 

"  Yours  ever  truly,  &c, 

"  Egremont." 

"  Petworth,  June  2<tth,  1833." 

This  letter  made  me  almost  feel  as  if  I  were  about  to  commit 
an  act  of  ingratitude  in  leaving  a  country  where  greater  patronage 
had  been,  and  was  still,  extended  towards  me  than  was,  in  many 
instances,  bestowed  on  my  superiors  in  art.  In  reply,  I  explained 
to  Lord  Egremont  that  I  was  not  leaving  England  for  want  of 
employment.  With  regard  to  his  noble  offer  of  one  thousand 
pounds  for  a  companion  picture  to  "  Sancho  and  the  Duchess," 
I  told  him  I  should  be  guilty  of  a  robbery  were  I  to  receive 
such  a  sum  for  such  a  picture  ;  that  I  should  be  most  happy 
to  paint  him  one  of  that  size  in  America ;  but  that  it  must  be 

on  the  subject  of  Eeform  in  1833,  to  conceive  of  the  consternation  that  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  country. 


CHAP.  VI.] 


ARRIVAL  IN  NEW  YORK. 


8:3 


on  the  condition  that  its  price  should  not  exceed  five  hundred 
guineas. 

Mrs.  Leslie  and  I  paid  our  last  visit,  as  we  thought,  to  Pet- 
worth,  and  on  our  taking  leave  of  Lord  Egremont,  all  he  said 
was,  "  I  am  very  sorry  for  this."  The  day  after  our  return  to 
town,  I  received  a  letter,  which  had  followed  me  to  Petworth, 
enclosed  in  the  following : 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  take  the  opportunity  of  this  letter  to  write  a  line,  and 
to  assure  you,  that  although  I  could  say  but  little  at  the  time, 
there  are  very  few  things  which  could  give  me  greater  pain  than 
pronouncing  the  last  farewell  to  you  and  Mrs.  Leslie.  I  heartily 
wish  you  success,  but  if  you  are  to  be  disappointed,  I  hope  it  may 
be  soon,  that  I  may  have  a  chance  of  seeing  you  again,  which  will 
not  admit  of  much  delay. 

"  Ever  truly  yours,  &c, 

"  Egremont." 

"  Petworth,  September  8th,  1833. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  had  so  little  expectation  of  returning 
to  England,  that  I  considered  it  my  duty  to  resign  my  Academic 
diploma,  and  on  this  subject  I  consulted  Sir  Martin  Shee,  who 
told  me  he  thought  such  a  step  by  no  means  imperative,  even  if 
I  were  certain  of  remaining  in  America,  but  that  at  any  rate  it 
was  quite  unnecessary  to  take  it  now.  , 

We  sailed  from  London  on  the  21st  September,  in  the  ship 
Philadelphia,  Captain  Morgan,  and  after  a  favourable  passage 
of  five  weeks  arrived  at  New  York.  Our  little  Mary  was  at 
that  time  but  two  months  old,  and  her  mother  was  fortunately 
able  to  nurse  her  during  the  whole  of  the  passage. 

My  brother  came  to  New  York  to  receive  us  on  the  morning 
after  our  arrival ;  but  before  going  to  West  Point,  we  paid  a 
visit  to  my  sisters  in  Philadelphia.  Nothing  was  omitted  on  the 
part  of  my  relations  and  friends  to  make  us  as  happy  and  com- 
fortable as  possible  ;  but  still,  on  returning  to  the  scenes  of  my 
boyhood,  after  so  long  an  absence,  I  felt  like  a  stranger.  I  met 
some  of  my  old  school-fellows,  but  my  lively  playmates  had  now 


84 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap  VI. 


become  grave  plodding  men  of  business,  and  we  could  never  be 
to  each  other  as  in  the  days  of  our  youth.  This  I  might  have 
foreseen,  and  also  that  it  would  be  a  long  time  before  I  could 
make  a  new  home  of  my  old  home.  At  West  Point,  I  was  de- 
lighted with  the  beautiful  scenery,  though  the  trees,  when  we 
arrived,  were  nearly  bare  of  foliage.  My  brother  saved  me 
almost  all  trouble  in  furnishing  and  fitting  up  our  house ;  which 
I  found,  however,  less  commodious  than  the  one  I  had  left  in 
London.  For  my  painting-room,  I  had  only  a  small  attic,  but  I 
was  assured  a  convenient  one  should  be  built. 

I  soon  found  that  the  school  occupied  much  more  of  my  time  than 
I  had  expected.  Saturday,  it  is  true,  was  a  holiday  to  the  cadets, 
but  it  was  less  so  to  me  than  any  other  day  in  the  week,  for  I  had 
on  that  day  to  make  a  report  of  the  conduct  of  my  pupils.  If,  in 
this  report,  I  censured  any  for  misbehaviour,  they  appealed,  and 
I  was  obliged  on  the  Monday  to  answer  their  appeals.  When 
the  examination,  at  the  close  of  the  year  took  place,  I  was  obliged 
to  attend  with  the  other  teachers  and  the  professors  from  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  until  four  in  the  afternoon,  for  two  or  three 
weeks ;  and  I  was  told  I  should  be  subject  to  the  same  attendance 
at  the  Midsummer  examination  ;  but  of  this  I  had  not  been  in- 
formed before  I  accepted  the  appointment. 

In  the  course  of  the  winter  my  wife  suffered  a  more  severe  ill- 
ness than  she  had  ever  before  experienced,  and  I  began  to  doubt 
whether  the  climate  of  West  Point  was  so  healthy  as  my  brother 
considered  it.  I  found  that  where  there  was  any  predisposi- 
tion to  consumption  in  any  of  the  cadets,  it  soon  became  neces- 
sary to  remove  them,  and  those  who  were  removed  never 
returned.* 

Colonel  de  Russey,  the  Superintendent,  was  very  desirous 
that  the  promised  painting-room  should  be  built,  and  assured 
me  it  should  be  done  as  soon  as  the  season  would  permit.  He 
had  a  plan  drawn  for  it,  and  submitted  to  the  Secretary  of 
War  at  Washington,  but  without  success.  There  existed,  at 
that  time,  a  party  in  Congress  opposed  to  the  very  existence  of 

*  My  brother,  who  was  educated  at  West  Point,  and  had  become  so  much 
attached  to  it  as  to  wish  to  pass  his  life  there,  has  since  left  it,  being  obliged  to 
remove  with  his  family  to  New  York  on  account  of  his  wife's  health. 


CHAP.  VI.] 


SOJOURN  AT  WEST  POINT. 


80 


the  West  Point  Academy ;  and  that  party  was  just  then 
making  a  strong  effort  to  destroy  it.  This  effort  failed  ;  but 
it  was  so  far  unlucky  for  me,  that  it  prevented  an  application 
to  Congress  for  the  money  necessary  to  build  my  room. 

I  did  not  find  that  the  expense  of  living  in  America  was 
likely  to  be  so  much  less  than  in  England  as  I  had  been  led 
to  suppose.  All  articles  of  clothing  were  greatly  dearer,  and 
dress  is  a  serious  item  in  a  large  family. 

One  hope  which  had  weighed  very  much  with  me  when  I 
accepted  the  situation,  was  that  I  should  find  less  difficulty  in 
settling  my  children  for  life  in  America  than  in  England  ;  but 
from  what  I  heard  during  my  sojourn  at  West  Point,  I  was 
inclined  to  doubt  this.  Our  reasoning  is  generally  on  the  side 
of  our  inclinations ;  and  so  entirely  did  I  now  feel  that  Eng- 
land had  become  my  home  —  so  anxious  was  I  to  be  again 
among  my  brother  artists  (the  best  in  the  world)  —  that  had 
prudential  reasons  weighed  more  strongly  than  they  seemed 
to  do  on  the  side  of«  my  remaining  in  America,  I  should 
probably  have  disregarded  them.  I  felt  assured  also  that  I 
should  make  my  wife  happy  by  returning ;  and  Lord  Egre- 
mont's  letter  had  its  due  weight  in  determining  me  to  go 
back. 

So  much  was  I  occupied  in  arranging  matters  for  my  de- 
parture, that  I  had  not  time  to  revisit  Philadelphia  ;  but  my 
sister,  Mrs.  Carey,  and  her  husband,  paid  us  a  visit. 

We  sailed  for  England  on  the  14th  of  April,  1834,  with 
our  good  friend,  Captain  Morgan,  who  gave  us  the  same  berths 
in  his  fine  ship  we  had  occupied  on  our  passage  out ;  and 
when  my  wife  found  herself  on  board  the  Philadelphia,  she 
said,  "  Now  I  feel  at  home  again."  After  being  a  week  at 
sea,  the  wind  became  westerly ;  and  from  that  time  our  course 
continued  in  one  direct  line  to  Portsmouth,  which  we  reached 
in  twenty  days  from  New  York.  When  we  left  West  Point 
not  a  leaf  was  out,  and  the  landscape  still  bore  the  appear- 
ance of  winter ;  but  on  our  arrival  in  England,  the  country 
was  clothed  with  foliage  and  blossom ;  and  this,  apparently, 
abrupt  transition  from  winter  to  summer  was  very  striking. 
The  first  land  we  saw  closely  was  the  Isle  of  Wight,  in  its 


86 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  vi. 


greatest  beauty,  for  we  passed  between  the  Needle  Rocks  and 
the  main  land.  These  circumstances,  and  the  delightful  weath- 
er, increased  our  joy  at  finding  ourselves  again  in  England, 
from  which  I  have  felt,  from  that  moment,  no  inclination  to 
estrange  myself. 

Soon  after  my  return  I  visited  Lord  Egremont.  He  was 
then  in  his  eighty-second  year.  A  few  days  before  my  ar- 
rival he  had  given  a  dinner  in  the  park  to  4000  poor  women 
and  children,  and  marks  were  on  the  grass,  made  by  the 
tables,  of  which  there  could  not  have  been  less  than  100,  rang- 
ed in  a  triple  semicircle  opposite  the  house.  At  that  time 
the  direct  entrance  to  the  house  was  closed,  in  consequence  of 
the  illness  of  the  porter  and  his  wife,  who  were  both  dying  of 
old  age.  As  they  lived  at  the  lodge,  Lord  Egremont  would 
not  allow  them  to  be  disturbed,  neither  would  he  have  them 
removed.  Had  I  not  learned  all  this  from  the  stage-coachman, 
I  should  have  been  greatly  astonished  to  find  "  No  Admittance  " 
posted  upon  any  gate  leading  to  his  residence. 

The  guests  I  found  at  Petworth  consisted  entirely  of  poor 
relations  and  poor  friends  ;  indeed,  all  that  I  noticed  strongly 
illustrated  the  character  of  its  benevolent  master. 

I  made  this  visit  alone,  as  my  wife  could  not  leave  town,  in 
consequence  of  the  children  having  brought  the  whooping-cough 
from  West  Point  \  but  in  two  months  we  were  all  at  Petworth 
together ;  and  on  this  occasion  it  happened,  very  pleasantly  to 
me,  that  Constable  was  one  of  Lord  Egremont's  guests. 

In  the  early  part  of  1834,  Stothard  was  released,  at  an  ad- 
vanced age,  from  a  world  in  which  his  gentle  nature  had  met 
with  an  unusual  share  of  domestic  affliction,  and  but  little  just 
appreciation  of  his  lovely  art. 

Every  great  painter  carries  us  into  a  world  of  his  own,  where,  if 
we  give  ourselves  up  to  his  guidance,  we  shall  find  much  enjoy 
ment ;  but  if  we  cavil  at  every  step,  we  may  be  sure  there  is  a 
greater  fault  in  ourselves  than  any  we  discover  in  him.  I  have 
known  people  who,  I  have  fancied,  would  not  be  quite  satisfied 
with  heaven  itself,  if  they  should  ever  come  there  ;  fault-finders, 
insensible  to  beauty,  and,  nine  times  in  ten,  finders  of  imagi- 
nary faults  only.    For  such  people  Stothard  did  not  paint.  But 


chap,  vi.]  SAM.  ROGERS  AND  STOTHARD. 


87 


he  did  paint  for  all  who  can  feel  and  see  what  is  best  and  most 
beautiful  in  this  world,  and  who  long  for  something  still  better 
than  the  present  condition  of  humanity. 

Few  could  feel  this  longing  more  intensely  than  he  did,  and 
this  feeling  made  his  art  what  it  was. 

Mr.  Rogers  was  always  his  warm  admirer  and  steady  friend ; 
and  among  artists  he  was  admired  by  all  whose  admiration  was 
of  value.  Flaxman  sought  his  acquaintance  early  in  life,  from 
seeing  one  of  his  designs  for  "  The  Novelist's  Magazine "  in  a 
shop  window.  He  procured  him  the  commission  to  paint  the 
Burleigh  staircase,  and  every  year,  on  his  wife's  birth-day,  he 
presented  her  with  a  small  picture  by  Stothard.  Lawrence, 
Constable,  Wilkie,  and  Chantrey  were  his  great  admirers ;  and 
Turner  proved  the  sincerity  of  his  admiration  by  painting  a  pic- 
ture in  avowed  imitation  of  him.  While  retouching  it  in  the 
Academy,  Turner  said  to  me,  "  If  I  thought  he  liked  my  pictures 
half  as  well  as  I  like  his,  I  should  be  satisfied.  He  is  the  Giotto 
of  England." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  aristocracy  knew  little  and  cared  less 
for  him.  Sir  George  Beaumont  was  loud  in  his  condemnation ; 
and  when  the  great  Duke  was  showing  the  Wellington  shield  to 
some  friends,  and  was  asked  who  designed  it,  he  said,  "  Ward  and 
Green."  Mr.  Rogers  (who  told  me  this)  interposed  "  Stothard  ;  " 
and  the  Duke  said,  "  Ah,  yes,  Stoddart "  —  not  even  giving  him 
his  right  name. 

For  some  years  before  his  death  I  had  the  happiness  of  being 
intimate  with  him,  and  often  spent  evenings  at  his  house,  looking 
over  his  sketch-books.  They  were  filled  with  every  variety  of 
subject ;  landscape,  architecture,  groups  of  figures  and  flowers,  all 
drawn  with  exquisite  taste.  On  my  asking  the  name  of  a  flower, 
which  struck  me  as  peculiarly  elegant,  he  said,  "  A  weed,  sir  ;  I 
have  a  great  respect  for  weeds."  Many  of  his  sketches  were 
made  from  the  windows  of  inns  where  he  had  halted  while  trav- 
elling ;  and  to  judge  from  the  materials  which  filled  his  books,  he 
did  not  appear  to  have  ever  gone  in  search  of  the  picturesque, 
but  to  have  sketched  whatever  his  leisure  permitted,  and  chance 
presented  to  him. 

I  was  often  surprised  by  seeing  the  most  ordinary  objects  and 


88 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  VI. 


personages,  such  as  an  inferior  artist  would  not  think  worth  his 
notice,  rendered  interesting  by  the  hand  and  eye  of  this  great 
master.  Chantrey  told  me  that  soon  after  the  peace  with  France, 
Stothard  and  he  visited  Paris  together.  On  leaving  Calais,  Stot- 
hard  tied  his  pencil  to  his  finger,  and  began  to  sketch  as  well  as 
the  motion  of  the  carriage  permitted  him.  He  was  very  quick  in 
noting  down,  in  two  or  three  lines,  the  general  forms  of  objects, 
and  after  sketching  rapidly  every  single  apple  tree  of  a  long  line 
which  bordered  the  road  from  Amiens,  he  said,  "  Now,  sir,  I 
shall  remember  the  character  of  an  apple  tree  as  long  as  I  live." 
Among  his  sketches  he  showed  me  some  early  drawings  from  the 
antique,  made  while  he  was  a  student  of  the  Academy.  They 
were  begun  and  finished  with  pen  and  ink  only,  and  looked  like 
beautiful  line  engravings.  He  said,  "  I  adopted  this  plan,  because, 
as  I  could  not  alter  a  line,  it  obliged  me  to  think  before  I  touched 
the  paper."  To  this  practice  he,  no  doubt,  owed  that  certainty  of 
hand  which  is  a  beauty  in  all  his  works. 

Stothard  told  me  that  when  a  lad,  he  and  another  youth  spent 
a  summer  on  the  banks  of  the  Medway,  in  a  hut  which  they  built 
in  imitation  of  Robinson  Crusoe's  dwelling.  They  purchased  a 
small  boat,  and  amused  themselves  with  sailing  when  the  weather 
permitted  it.  This  anecdote  gives  an  additional  interest  to  his 
illustrations  of  Robinson  Crusoe. 

He  said  to  Constable  that  when  he  was  engaged  in  making 
drawings  for  "  The  Novelist's  Magazine,"  he  walked  the  streets 
for  his  subjects. 

I  believe  that  during  the  whole  of  his  life,  the  time  not  passed 
in  his  studio  was,  for  the  most  part,  spent  in  long  walks  ;  in  the 
winter  through  the  streets  of  London,  and  in  the  summer  through 
the  fields. 

Though  his  deafness  disabled  him  from  enjoying  society,  ex- 
cept that  of  a  single  friend  at  a  time,  his  disposition  was  social. 
He  never  missed  attending  the  meetings  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
though  he  could  catch  nothing  of  the  discussions  that  took  place, 
except  as  far  as  some  friend  would  explain  them.  I  have  often 
walked  home  with  him  from  these  meetings,  and  the  first  ques- 
tion he  would  ask  me  was,  "What  have  we  been  doing  to- 
night?" 


CHAP.  VI.] 


ANECDOTES  OF  STOTHARD. 


89 


Full  as  his  countless  work  are  of  exquisite  sentiment,  I  never 
heard  him  use  the  word  sentiment  in  his  life.  I  spoke  to  him 
one  day  of  his  touching  picture  of  a  sailor  taking  leave  of  his 
wife  or  sweetheart,  and  he  said,  "  I  am  glad  you  like  it,  sir ;  it 
was  painted  with  japanner's  gold  size." 

Though  utterly  careless  of  dress,  Stothard  always  looked  like 
a  gentleman,  and  as  he  grew  old,  his  appearance  became  very 
venerable ;  his  head,  or  rather  the  expression  of  his  face,  re- 
sembling the  antique  in  the  British  Museum  called  Homer. 

As  he  heard  little  that  passed  in  conversation,  he  said  little ; 
but  that  little  was  always  well  said.  When  an  eminent  painter 
of  the  four-legged  creation,  presented  to  the  Academy,  on  his 
election,  a  picture  of  two  little  naked,  bilious,  dirty-looking  boys, 
intended  for  Bacchanals,  a  member  regretted  that  he  had  not 
sent  "  s6me  of  his  pigs."    Stothard  said,  "  I  think  he  has." 

I  was  amused  with  an  account  Constable  gave  me  of  a  walk 
he  took  with  him  in  1824,  from  London  to  Coombe  Wood,  where 
they  dined  by  the  side  of  a  spring.  They  set  out  early  in  the 
day,  provided  with  some  sandwiches  for  their  dinner.  Before 
they  reached  the  wood,  Stothard,  seeing  Constable  eating  a  sand- 
wich, called  him  "  a  young  traveller,"  for  breaking  in  on  their  store 
so  early.  When  they  got  to  the  spring,  they  found  the  water 
low  and  difficult  to  reach ;  but  Constable  took  from  his  pocket  a 
tin  cup,  which  he  had  bought  at  Putney  unnoticed  by  Stothard. 
The  day  was  hot,  and  the  water  intensely  cold ;  and  Stothard 
said,  "  Hold  it  in  your  mouth,  sir,  some  time  before  you  swallow 
it.  A  little  brandy  or  rum  now  would  be  invaluable."  "  And 
you  shall  have  some,  sir,  if  you  will  retract  what  you  said  of  my 
being  a  '  young  traveller ; '  I  have  brought  a  bottle  of  rum  from 
town,  a  thing  you  never  thought  of :  "  for  though  Constable  car- 
ried their  fare,  Stothard  was  the  caterer. 

As  they  lay  on  the  grass,  enjoying  their  meal  under  the  trees 
that  screened  them  from  a  midsummer's  sun,  Stothard,  looking  up 
to  the  splendid  colour  of  the  foliage  over  their  heads,  said, 
"  That's  all  glazing,  sir."  I  am  not  afraid  that  these  anecdotes 
will  be  thought  trifling.  The  sandwiches  and  the  rum  are  ordi- 
nary things,  but  they  serve  to  show  the  frugal  habits  of  two  re- 
markable men,  who  were  enjoying  the  beauties  of  nature  with  a 


90 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  VI. 


relish  of  which  the  most  refined  voluptuary  cannot  form  a  distant 
conception.  I  have  heard  that  Stothard,  hardy  and  thrifty,  never 
got  into  a  hackney  coach  in  his  life,  and  never  wore  a  great  coat. 
He  was,  as  I  have  said,  a  daily  walker,  and  Constable  was  the 
chosen  companion  of  his  walks.  Stothard,  indeed,  fully  appre- 
ciated the  originality  of  Constable's  mind,  and  well  knew  that  he 
was  a  friend  on  whom  he  could  rely  to  the  utmost. 

I  witnessed  at  the  Academy  a  trifling  proof  of  the  respect  felt 
for  Stothard  by  his  colleagues.  He  was  at  one  of  the  meetings 
which  take  place  on  every  1st  of  December  to  ballot  for  the 
prizes  to  the  students.  This  is  always  held  in  the  day-time,  and 
in  the  largest  of  the  exhibition  rooms,  which,  at  Somerset  House, 
there  were  no  means  of  warming.  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  put- 
ting on  his  hat  begged  us  all  to  do  the  same ;  but  Stothard,  who 
had  left  his  in  the  ante-room,  did  not  hear  him.  "  Which  of  you, 
gentlemen,"  said  Lawrence,  "will  bring  Mr.  Stothard's  hat?" 
There  was  a  general  rush  to  the  door,  and  Shee,  who  ran  the 
quickest,  brought  it  to  the  old  gentleman  before  he  knew  what 
the  bustle  meant. 

I  doubt  whether  there  exists  an  entire  collection  of  the  thou- 
sands of  engravings  of  Stothard's  lovely  conceptions,  though 
there  are  many  large  ones ;  and  in  looking  over  these,  the  im- 
pression is,  that  the  life  of  a  man  of  such  a  mind  as  they  display 
could  not  have  been  an  unhappy  one  —  nor  was  it ;  notwithstand- 
ing a  series  of  domestic  afflictions  of  such  weight  as  would  have 
crushed  most  men ;  and  these  trials  were  continued  to  the  close  of 
his  life.  Constable,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  written  in  1833,  says, 
"  I  passed  an  hour  or  two  with  Mr.  Stothard  on  Sunday  evening. 
Poor  man !  the  only  Elysium  he  has  in  this  world  he  finds  in  his 
own  enchanting  works.  His  daughter  does  all  in  her  power  to 
make  him  happy  and  comfortable." 

He  must  have  possessed  great  constitutional  serenity  of  mind, 
and  he  was  also,  no  doubt,  much  supported  by  his  art.  His 
easel,  indeed,  bore  evidence  of  the  many  years  he  had  passed  be- 
fore it;  the  lower  bar,  on  which  his  foot  rested,  being  nearly 
worn  through. 

What  a  contrast  does  such  a  man  offer,  preserving  his  cheerful- 
ness through  a  long  and  troubled  life  —  a  life  throughout  which 


CHAP.  VI.] 


OLD  LADY  CORK. 


91 


his  great  merits  were  very  imperfectly  appreciated  —  to  the 
many,  who, 

"  When  no  real  ills  perplex  them, 
Can  make  enough  themselves  to  vex  them." 

On  my  return  from  America,  I  commenced  writing  a  diary, 
which  I  continued  for  two  or  three  years.  The  following  account 
of  Lady  Cork  (the  Hon.  Miss  Moncton  mentioned  in  Boswell's 
Life  of  Johnson)  is  from  it : 

"  Sunday,  June  1st,  1834.  My  wife  and  I  dined  with  Miss 
Rogers.  Met  Mr.  S.  Rogers,  Lady  Cork,  the  Ladies  Jane  and 
Fanny  Harley,  and  Mr.  Wilkinson.*  Lady  Cork  very  old,  in- 
firm, and  diminutive ;  dressed  all  in  white,  with  a  white  bonnet, 
which  she  wore  at  the  table.  No  doubt  she  had  been  pretty  in 
her  youth.  Her  features  are  delicate  and  her  skin  fair,  and  not- 
withstanding her  great  age,  she  is  very  animated.  She  was  at- 
tended by  a  boy  page,  in  a  fantastical  green  livery,  with  a  cap  and 
a  high  plume  of  black  feathers.  Mr.  Rogers  asked  her  about 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  whom  she  knew  very  well,  and  who  had 
painted  a  whole  length  portrait  of  her.  She  told  us  nothing  of 
him,  except  that  he  was  a  very  pleasant  man.  The  truth  is,  the 
old  lady,  who  was  a  lion-hunter  in  her  youth,  is  as  much  one  now 
as  ever,  and  was  wholly  taken  up  with  Mr.  Wilkinson,  who,  Mr. 
Rogers  told  her,  was  accustomed  to  ride  on  a  tame  crocodile  in 
Egypt ;  but  he,  being  shy,  preferred  talking,  in  a  low  tone,  to  the 
Ladies  Harley,  to  bawling  out  to  the  deaf  Lady  Cork.  She  was, 
however,  not  to  be  put  off,  but  contrived  to  carry  him  away  in 
her  carriage." 

The  saddest  change  that  had  taken  place  among  my  friends  in 
England,  while  I  was  at  West  Point,  was  that  which  had  over- 
taken poor  Newton.    He  was  insane. 

On  my  visit  to  him  at  the  asylum  at  Chelsea,  where  he  was 
placed,  his  conversation  was,  for  the  most  part,  rational,  but  he 
always  uttered  something,  sufficiently  flighty  to  show  the  state  of 
his  mind.  At  one  time,  his  friends  had  some  hope,  from  his 
having  taken  up  his  pencil,  which  he  had  long  laid  aside.  Dr. 
Sutherland  considered  this  a  favourable  symptom. 

*  Now  Sir  Gardner  Wilkinson. 


92 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap  VI. 


On  calling  to  see  him  in  October,  1834,  he  showed  me  many- 
pencil  sketches,  and  one  begun  in  oil.  The  subject  of  the  oil 
sketch  was  the  widow  of  Lord  Strafford  showing  her  son  his 
father's  portrait.  He  told  me  that  Lord  Strafford  *  was  not  exe- 
cuted, but  had  vanished  from  the  scaffold  and  was  still  living  ; 
that  he  was  the  same  person  as  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  who  had  ap- 
peared in  the  world  many  times  in  different  characters.  With  the 
exception  of  this  flight,  his  conversation  was  rational.  A  profile 
of  Walter  Scott,  drawn  by  him  in  lead  pencil,  I  had  seen  before, 
and  had  asked  him  to  give  it  me.  He  had  promised  that  he 
would,  when  he  had  made  a  copy  of  it,  and  he  now  showed  me 
the  copy,  and  said  I  might  have  that  or  the  first.  I  chose  the 
first,  but  they  were  both  very  like  Sir  Walter.  The  following 
lines  of  Newton's  composition,  are  on  the  back  of  the  sketch  :  — 

"  'Tis  thine,  renowned  being,  the  task,  the  privilege, 
'  To  hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature.' 
Whether  thy  pen  instruct  us  or  thy  conduct, 
Alike  we  are  taught.    First  by  the  magic  of  that  pen 
What  man  has  been ;  then  by  thy  fair  career, 
The  more  important  lesson  what  he  should  be." 

The  subject  of  his  other  sketches  were,  "  Christ  blessing  little 
children,"  "  Lear  in  the  Storm,"  "  Miranda  and  Prospero  on  the 
summit  of  a  rock  looking  at  the  Shipwreck,"  "  Falconbridge 
upbraiding  Hubert  with  the  murder  of  Arthur,"  "Uncle  Toby, 
Mrs.  Wadman,  and  Trim,"  "  La  Fleur  taking  leave  of  his  Sweet- 
hearts "  (the  figure  of  La  Fleur  very  good),  "  The  nurse  lament- 
ing over  Juliet,  whom  she  supposes  dead,"  "A  child  marching 
through  a  garden  of  flowers,  fancying  himself  a  soldier,  and  salut- 
ing the  flowers  "  (this  Newton  said  was  himself,  and  what  he  did 
when  a  child),  "  Bardolph  moralising  to  Falstaff,"  "  Edie  Ochil- 
tree making  toys  for  children,"  "  The  Antiquary  waiting  for  the 
coach,"  and  other  sketches,  several  of  which  were  of  mothers 
and  children. 

I  took  care  that  all  the  materials  required  for  drawing  and 
painting  should  be  placed  in  his  room ;  but  he  never  again 
sketched  or  painted. 

He  died  in  August,  1835.  A  few  days  before  his  death,  his 
*  If  I  recollect  aright,  Lord  Strafford  had  no  son. 


CHAP  VI.] 


NEWTON,  THE  PAINTER. 


93 


mind  seemed  somewhat  restored,  though  I  did  not  hear  that  it 
was  ever  entirely  so.  During  the  rapid  consumption  that  ended 
his  life,  he  read  only  the  Bible  and  Prayer-book ;  and  when  he 
became  too  weak  to  read,  they  were  read  to  him  by  an  attendant. 
The  day  before  he  died,  he  desired  to  hear  the  funeral  service, 
saying,  "  It  will  soon  be  read  over  me."  He  listened  with  great 
attention,  and  remarked  that  it  was  "  very  fine." 

Newton,  like  Constable,  was  misunderstood  by  those  who  did 
not  know  him  thoroughly.  I  knew  enough  of  him,  and  of  his 
actions,  to  know  that  his  heart  was  noble,  and  his  mind  a  pure 
one.  His  pleasantry  and  good  manners  made  him  very  accept- 
able in  society.  He  was  a  most  amusing  companion,  and  though 
the  two  or  three  things  I  recollect  him  to  have  said  may  not  be 
the  least  worth  noting,  I  will  put  them  down  at  a  venture.  He 
happened  to  remark  to  a  friend,  that  he  was  often  in  want  of  rags 
to  clean  his  palette. 

"  What  do  you  do  with  your  old  shirts  ?  " 

"  I  wear  them." 

A  gentleman  showing  him  his  pictures,  and  discovering  from 
his  manner  that  he  did  not  think  highly  of  them,  said,  "  At  least 
you  will  allow  that  it  is  a  tolerable  collection." 

"  True,  sir  ;  but  would  you  eat  a  tolerable  egg  ?  " 

When  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  died,  and  we  were  speculating  as 
to  his  successor  in  the  chair  of  the  Academy,  Newton  said,  "  It 
must  be  either  Phillips  or  Shee,  for  they  are  the  only  Academi- 
cians who  wear  powder." 

Speaking  of  art  to  me,  and  when  in  the  asylum,  he  said,  "  A 
painter  cannot  do  better  than  attend  to  the  advice  of  Polonius, 
i  Be  thou  familiar,  but  by  no  means  vulgar.'  " 

On  his  return  from  America,  and  when  he  was  quite  himself, 
an  Englishman  asking  him  about  the  society  in  Boston,  said, 
"  You  must  have  felt  the  difference  ;  you  did  not  meet  such 
people  there  as  you  associate  with  here." 

"  I  met  such  people  there,"  he  said,  "  every  day,  as  I  am  glad 
to  meet  here  occasionally." 

This  was  not  said  merely  for  the  sake  of  making  an  unexpected 
answer,  for  I  know  that,  in  Boston  at  that  time,  the  best  society 
included  many  men  of  rare  intellectual  attainments  ;  and  in  a 


04 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  VI. 


place  so  much  smaller  than  London,  Newton's  opportunities  of 
meeting  such  men  were  much  more  frequent  than  here. 

Newton  was,  to  my  eye,  a  handsome  man,  though  his  features 
were  far  from  regular.  He  was  tall,  and  his  hands,  like  Wilkie's, 
were  beautifully  formed  and  very  white. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Visit  to  Cashiobury  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  —  Theatrical  Stars  — Jack  Bannis- 
ter —  The  Sistine  Chapel  —  Chantrey  —  Holland  House  —  Sir  George 
Beaumont  —  Constable,  the  Painter. 

I  scarcely  know  whether  the  following  passages  from  my 
journal  are  worth  preserving,  but  I  feel  inclined  to  take  them 
from  among  many  others  which  I  am  sure  are  not. 

"December  2ith,  1834.  —  Dined  with  Constable.  Mr.  Rogers 
and  Mr.  and  Miss  Wilkie,  and  Mr.  Bannister  were  there.  Ban- 
nister amused  us  very  much  with  a  comic  song  as  sung  by  4  Mr. 
Killjoy,'  a  person  wholly  destitute  of  humour.  He  spoke  of  Mrs. 
Siddons,  and  Mrs.  Jordan,  whose  first  appearances  he  remembers. 
He  acquits  Garrick  of  behaving  ill  to  Mrs.  Siddons  in  not  engag- 
ing her,  for  he  said  Garrick  could  not  guess  at  her  future  emi- 
nence, as  she  displayed  very  little  talent  at  first.  Mrs.  Jordan's 
voice  was  the  most  delightful  he  ever  heard  on  the  stage.  Wil- 
kie asked  Bannister  if  he  had  seen  Dr.  Johnson.  He  said, 
4  once  in  the  street,'  and  knew  him  from  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's 
portrait.  Bannister  was  intended  by  his  father  for  an  artist. 
He  drew  in  the  Academy,  and  remembers  sitting  behind  Bartol- 
lozzi  and  Cipriani  in  the  Life-School,  and  thinking  their  draw- 
ings wonderful.  He  gave  us  an  imitation  of  an  old  Jew,  and  in 
doing  this  so  altered  his  features,  and  even  his  figure,  as  to  lose, 
to  appearance,  his  own  identity.  He  raised  his  shoulders,  which 
gave  him  the  look  of  a  tall  man,  whose  head  was  sunk  in  his 
chest  with  age.  He  described  the  Jew,  as  complimenting  him  on 
his  acting,  '  And  your  fader,  Mr.  Bannister,  oh  !  what  an  actor  he 
was  !  what  a  voice  he  had  !  So  beautiful  —  so  melodious !  He 
could  go  as  low  as  a  bull.' 

"August  5tk,  1835.  —  At  Cashiobury.  Mr.  Rogers  there.  I 
walked  with  him  for  two  hours  in  the  garden.    He  remembers 


96  MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE.  [chap.  vn. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  ;  but  was  only  twice  in  his  company.  He 
once  breakfasted  with  him,  and  he  was  present  at  his  last  dis- 
course. On  that  occasion  the  room  was  crowded,  and  Burke  and 
Boswell  were  there.  As  Sir  Joshua  descended  from  the  reading- 
desk,  Burke  stepped  forward,  and  taking  his  hand,  said :  — 

"  The  angel  ended,  and  in  Adam's  ear 

So  charming  left  his  voice,  that  he  a  while 
Thought  him  still  speaking,  still  stood  fixt  to  hear." 

"  It  was  on  this  evening  that  the  sinking  of  the  floor  of  the 
great  room  a  few  inches  so  much  alarmed  the  company.  All 
rushed  to  the  door,  and  it  was  some  time  before  it  was  a-certained 
there  was  no  danger.  When  the  fright  was  over,  Mr.  Rogers 
obtained  a  much  better  situation  than  he  had  before. 

"At  dinner  the  conversation  turned  on  the  trial  of  Queen  Caro- 
line. A  gentleman  mentioned  a  reply  made  by  a  Quaker  who 
was  asked,  what  the  Society  of  Friends  thought  of  the  Queen, 
while  that  disgraceful  business  was  going  on.  4  We  are  of  opin- 
ion,' said  he,  4  that  she  is  not  good  enough  for  our  Queen,  but  too 
good  for  our  King.' 

"  Lord  Essex  told  us  that,  when  it  became  the  fashion  for  the 
nobility  to  marry  actresses,  Lady  Spencer  said,  4  If  my  daughters 
don't  go  off  this  season,  I  shall  bring  them  out  on  the  stage.' 

"  Mr.  Rogers,  speaking  of  the  stage,  remarked  that,  in  the 
performance  of  a  fine  play  we  receive  a  greater  amount  of  intel- 
lectual gratification,  the  result  of  a  greater  variety  of  genius  and 
ingenuity,  than  we  can  from  any  other  entertainment  that  has 
ever  been  devised.  Take,  for  instance,  4  Macbeth,'  as  we  have  all 
seen  it  acted,  —  the  poetry  of  Shakespeare,  the  acting  of  Mrs. 
Siddons,  and  John  and  Charles  Kemble,  the  music  of  Lock,  the 
beauty  of  the  scenery  and  ingenuity  of  the  mechanism. 

44 1  was  amused  to  hear  Lord  Essex,  speaking  of  happiness, 
say :  4  The  secret  is  to  be  content  with  the  little  one  has.  The 
Duke  of  Bedford  and  Lord  Egremont,  with  all  their  wealth,  are 
not  happier  than  I  am.' 

44  October  19th.  —  At  the  painting-school  at  the  Academy  are 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  splendid  picture  of  Iphigenia,  belonging  to 
the  king,  and  a  small  picture  of  a  child  by  him.  Oliver,  who  is 
keeper  of  the  painting-school,  told  me  that  he  used  to  go  to  Sir 


CHAP.  VII.] 


SIE  JOSHUA  KEYNOLDS. 


97 


Joshua,  when  a  student,  to  show  him  his  pictures,  and  request  ad- 
vice, and  was  always  very  kindly  received.  It  was  Sir  Joshua's 
practice  to  admit  young  artists  in  the  morning  before  he  com- 
menced painting,  and  he  most  readily  lent  them  his  finest  works 
to  copy.  Turner  also  told  me  that  he  copied  many  of  his  pic- 
tures when  he  was  a  student.  Oliver  says  Sir  Joshua's  manner 
was,  on  these  occasions,  exactly  as  Goldsmith  has  described  it : 

'  Gentle,  complying,  and  bland.' 

"  Allan  Cunningham's  £  Life  of  Reynolds '  being  the  last,  and 
published  in  a  popular  form,  would  be  injurious  to  the  memory  of 
Sir  Joshua,  disfigured  as  it  is  by  prejudices,  were  it  not  that  the 
writer  seldom  fails  to  confute  his  own  reasoning  where  it  is  erro- 
neous, and  that  his  misrepresentations  of  Sir  Joshua's  words  are 
too  glaring  to  escape  the  notice  of  even  a  hasty  reader.  For 
instance,  he  quotes  the  following  passage  from  the  account  the 
great  painter  gives  of  his  sensations  on  visiting  the  Vatican  : 
i  On  inquiring  further  of  other  students,  I  found  that  those  per- 
sons only  who,  from  natural  imbecility,  appeared  to  be  incapable 
of  relishing  those  divine  performances  (the  frescos  of  Raphael) 
made  pretensions  to  instantaneous  raptures  on  first  beholding 
them,'  and  on  the  next  page  Cunningham  says,  ( the  conclusion 
which  Reynolds  draws,  viz.,  that  none  but  an  imbecile  person  can 
be  alive  at  first  sight  to  the  genius  of  Raphael,  is  certainly  rash, 
and,  most  probably,  erroneous.'  And  yet  Allan  Cunningham  was 
an  honest  and  well-meaning  man.  But  the  passage  I  have  quoted, 
as  well  as  many  others  in  his  '  Life  of  Reynolds,'  and  some  in 
the  1  Life  of  Wilkie,'  in  which  the  Royal  Academy  is  spoken  of, 
show  how  far  an  honest  mind  may  be  carried  away  from  the  truth 
by  prejudice.  Such  unfairness  to  the  personal  character  of  Rey- 
nolds, and  to  the  Academy,  is  equally  unaccountable. 

"  November  9tk.  —  Dined  at  Holland  House.  Lord  Seaford, 
who  was  there,  remembers  dining  in  company  with  Dr.  Johnson, 
at  Dr.  Brocklesby's.  Lord  Seaford  was  then  a  boy  of  twelve  or 
thirteen.  He  was  impressed  with  the  superiority  of  Johnson,  and 
his  knocking  everybody  down  in  argument. 

"  Lord  Holland  said,  Mr.  Fox  always  avoided  talking  with  Dr. 
Johnson  on  account  of  his  over-bearing  manner.  Johnson  heard 
7 


98 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  VII. 


somebody  say  Mr.  Fox  was  '  Aut  Caesar  aut  nihil.'  He  remarked 
that  Fox  was  '  nihil '  whenever  he  met  him. 

"  Lord  Holland  said  he  saw  Kean  and  Kemble  play  the  last 
scene  in  '  A  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,'  on  the  same  night. 
As  Kemble  was  slower  than  Kean,  Lord  Holland*  went,  the  in- 
stant the  curtain  fell  at  Drury  Lane,  to  Covent  Garden,  and  was 
in  time  for  Kemble. 

"  On  being  asked  which  he  preferred,  he  replied,  '  I  hardly  like 
to  say,  for  I  had  always  a  friendship  for  Kemble.' 

"  November  1  Qth.  —  Dined  at  Cartwright's,  with  my  wife.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bannister  there.  Bannister  talked  of  Garrick.  He 
said,  it  seemed  invidious  to  speak  of  his  acting  compared  with 
that  of  others,  it  was,  in  general,  so  superior.  Kean,  he  said, 
had  flashes  of  power  equal  to  Garrick,  but  he  could  not  sustain  a 
character  throughout  as  Garrick  did.* 

"  In  Lear,  Bannister  said,  Garrick's  very  stick  acted.  The 
scene  with  Cordelia  and  the  physician,  as  Garrick  played  it,  was 
the  most  pathetic  he  ever  saw  on  the  stage.f  Garrick  instructed 
Barry  in  Romeo,  and  afterwards  when  Barry  played  it  in  rivalry 
with  him  he  was  obliged  to  alter  his  own  manner,  notwithstanding 
which  he  beat  Barry.  A  lady  (I  forget  her  name),  who  had  per- 
formed Juliet  with  them  both,  said,  she  thought  she  must  have 
jumped  out  of  the  balcony  to  Barry,  and  that  she  thought  Gar- 
rick would  have  jumped  into  the  balcony  to  her. 

"  Garrick  instructed  Bannister,  when  the  latter  was  about 

*  My  own  impression  is,  that  I  never  saw  finer  acting  than  Kean's  Othello, 
not  even  excepting  any  performance  of  Mrs.  Siddons.  His  finest  passages  were 
those  most  deeply  pathetic. 

t  I  was  told  by  Mr.  Harness  (Lord  Byron's  friend),  who  in  early  life  was 
much  in  theatrical  society,  of  the  manner  in  which  Garrick  gave  a  passage 
from  Lear  (Mr.  Harness,  no  doubt,  had  it  from  the  Kembles).  When  Lear 
curses  his  daughter,  and  wishes,  if  she  should  have  a  child,  that  it  may  prove 
ungrateful,  "  that  she  may  feel,"  &c,  Garrick  repeated  these  words  thus: 

"  That  she  may  feel —  that  she  may  feel  — 
How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is 
To  have  a  thankless  child." 

Both  times  he  dwelt  with  the  strongest  emphasis  on  feel,  first  raising  his  voice 
to  the  highest  key,  and  the  second  time  sinking  it  to  the  deepest  bass,  and  paus- 
ing for  a  moment  after  that  word.  Let  this  be  tried,  and  the  effect  will  be  at 
once  perceived. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


JACK  BANNISTER. 


90 


seventeen,  in  three  characters,  one  of  which  was  Zaphne,  in 
'  Mahomet.'  In  this  he  first  appeared,  and  with  great  success. 
A  day  or  two  afterwards  meeting  Garrick  in  the  street,  the  man- 
ager said  :  — 

" '  Well  now,  I  suppose  you  are  on  the  top  of  St.  Paul's,  but 
don't  be  vain.    What  character  do  you  think  of  next  ? ' 
"  Bannister  mentioned  '  Oronooko.' 

"  '  Oronooko,'  said  Garrick,  '  why,  you  will  look  like  a  chimney- 
sweeper in  a  consumption.'  (Bannister  was  at  that  time  very 
thin.) 

"  Garrick's  manner  of  saying  this  was  dramatic,  and  that  of  a 
man  who  was  conscious  he  was  known  and  looked  at.  '  Dick,  the 
Apprentice,'  was  one  of  the  characters  in  which  Garrick  instruct- 
ed Bannister,  and  when  he  first  played  it,  he  gave  imitations  of 
living  actors ;  that  of  Bensley,  in  particular,  was  thought  very 
good ;  but  finding  that  public  mimickry  often  hurt  the  feelings  of 
those  he  mimicked,  more  than  he  could  have  supposed,  he  gave  it 
up  entirely. 

"  Though  I  had  the  great  pleasure  of  seeing  much  of  Mr.  Ban- 
nister, after  his  retirement,  I  only  saw  him  on  the  stage  twice. 
The  first  time  was  in  a  little  interlude,  '  The  Purse,  or  the  Benev- 
olent Tar,'  and  the  second  in  '  Wild  Oats,'  in  which  he  played  John 
Dory,  and  the  scenes  between  him  and  Dowton  (Sir  George 
Thunder)  were  matchless  for  genuine  humour. 

"  Bannister  was  remarkably  handsome,  even  as  an  old  man ; 
his  dark  eyes,  still  full  of  animation,  were  the  more  striking  from 
the  contrast  with  his  white  hair.  His  nature  was  a  thoroughly 
genial  one.  'When  I  first  attracted  notice  on  the  stage,'  he 
said,  1 1  was  told  of  such  and  such  people  who  were  my  enemies  ; 
but  I  never  would  listen  to  such  reports,  for  I  was  determined  to 
go  through  life  without  enemies,  and  I  have  done  so.' 

"  He  said  to  Constable,  '  they  say  it  is  my  wife  who  has  taken 
care  of  my  money  and  made  me  comfortable  in  my  old  age  ;  and 
so  she  has  ;  but  I  think  I  deserve  a  little  of  the  credit,  for  I  let 
her  do  it.'" 

Though  with  the  help  of  his  wife  he  was  careful,  yet  he  was 
very  generous.  I  remember  hearing  Terry  relate  that  he  put  a 
bond  for  a  sum  of  money,  and  not  a  small  sum,  which  he  had 


100 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  vii. 


lent  to  a  friend,  into  the  fire,  on  finding  that  its  payment  was  in- 
convenient ;  but  in  doing  this,  he  said,  "  Don't  tell  my  wife." 
To  return  to  my  diary  :  — 

"July  2Qth.  —  In  the  evening  I  took  little  Harriet  and  Caro- 
line, with  Rebecca  and  William  Clark,  to  the  gardens  of  the 
Eyre  Arms  Hotel,  where  there  was  an  exhibition  of  fireworks, 
&c.  A  woman  was  to  ascend  a  rope  across  the  gardens,  300 
feet  in  length,  and  60  feet  from  the  ground  at  its  greatest  height. 
She  proceeded  slowly,  in  consequence,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
of  the  rope  not  being  sufficiently  tight ;  and  when  she  was  with- 
in a  short  distance  of  the  end  she  stopped,  being  unable  either  to 
advance  or  to  go  back.  The  ascent  had  become  so  steep  from  the 
slackness  of  the  rope,  that  she  could  not  proceed  a  step  higher, 
neither  could  she  stoop  to  take  hold  of  it  without  throwing  away 
the  balance-pole,  and  had  she  done  that  she  must  have  fallen. 
For  some  minutes  she  continued  stationary,  her  husband  calling 
to  her  from  below  to  go  back.  I  was  too  far  off  to  hear  her  re- 
ply ;  but  it  was  evident  she  could  not  venture  to  turn  round. 
Her  situation  became  every  instant  more  perilous ;  and  I  was 
about  to  leave  the  garden,  fearing  she  would  lose  her  presence  of 
mind,  and  dreading  to  see  her  fall,  and  that  my  little  girls  should 
witness  so  horrid  a  sight.  I  should  mention,  that,  as  it  was  quite 
dark,  she  was  only  made  visible  by  fireworks  exploding  around 
and  below  her.  The  top  of  a  ladder  now  rose  from  the  midst  of 
the  crowd ;  but  when  perpendicular  it  was  not  long  enough  to 
reach  her  feet ;  and  there  was  another  dreadful  minute  or  two  of 
suspense,  with  cries  and  screams  from  the  crowd.  A  table  was 
then  brought  from  the  inn,  and  the  ladder  placed  on  it,  and  kept 
in  a  perpendicular  position  by  two  men  at  the  foot,  while  another 
ascended.  There  were  loud  cries  of  "  Don't  let  the  ladder  touch 
the  rope  !  "  as  he  went  up.  The  top  of  it  rose  but  a  foot  above 
the  rope ;  and  he  could  use  but  one  arm  in  saving  her,  as  with 
the  other  he  had  to  keep  hold  of  the  ladder.  It  seemed,  there- 
fore, scarcely  possible  that  he  could  help  her.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments' consultation,  he  called  to  the  crowd  to  stand  from  below. 
She  threw  away  the  balance-pole,  and  at  the  same  instant  stooped 
towards  the  ladder,  and,  falling  across  the  rope,  remained  sus- 
pended, with  one  leg  over  it,  and  her  arms  holding  to  the  ladder. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


THE  SISTINE  CHAPEL. 


101 


It  was  with  some  difficulty  that  her  preserver  managed  to  re- 
move her  to  the  ladder ;  but  as  soon  as  he  did,  she  descended 
rapidly,  amidst  the  cheering  of  the  crowd  ;  while  the  gallant  fel- 
low who  had  saved  her  seemed  in  some  danger  himself,  for  he  re- 
mained for  a  short  time  suspended  by  his  hands  to  the  rope,  with 
only  one  foot  on  the  step  of  the  ladder.  But  he  soon  righted 
himself,  and  reached  the  ground.  I  left  the  children  in  the  care 
of  Mr.  Danforth,  who  had  accompanied  us  to  the  garden,  and, 
mixing  with  the  crowd,  asked  her  preserver  if  he  was  related  to 
her  ;  he  said  £  No/  and  that  he  was  only  a  servant.  He  was  a 
fine-looking  young  man,  and  I  was  told  had  been  a  sailor.  Hav- 
ing half  a  sovereign  in  my  pocket,  I  put  it  into  his  hand. 

"  July  28th. —  Dined  with  my  neighbor  Richard  Cook :  Wilkie, 
Phillips,  Hilton,  and  Blore  were  there.  In  speaking  of  the  ceil- 
ing of  the  Sistine  Chapel,  Wilkie  praised  its  chiaroscuro  and 
colour.  He  said  in  many  of  the  pictures  there  were  bright  lights, 
so  intense,  that  it  was  thought,  generally,  other  parts  had  become 
faint  or  low  in  tone  from  time ;  and  these  effects  were  not,  there- 
fore, copied  by  the  engravers,  who  probably  thought  them  acci- 
dental. Wilkie,  however,  was  of  a  different  opinion,  and  believed 
that  the  general  effect  of  the  pictures  was  not  materially  altered 
by  time.  He  observed,  that  no  engravings  of  them  gave  the 
chiaroscuro. 

"My  31st. —  In  the  evening  I  went  to  Mr.  Dunlop's.  Mr. 
Dunlop  had  been  sitting  to  Chantrey,  who  fixed  the  back  of  his 
head  in  a  wooden  machine  to  keep  him  perfectly  still,  and  then 
drew  with  a  camera  lucida  the  profile  and  front  face  of  the  size 
of  life.  He  afterwards  gave  a  little  light  and  shade  to  the  draw- 
ings, and  said,  '  I  shall  not  require  you  to  sit  still  after  this.'  He 
said,  '  I  always  determine  in  my  mind  the  expression  to  be 
given ;  and  unless  I  can  see  the  face  distinctly,  and  with  that  ex- 
pression when  I  close  my  eyes,  I  can  do  nothing.  If  I  can,  I 
can  often  make  the  face  more  like  in  the  absence  of  the  sitter 
than  in  his  presence.'  Thus  it  is  that  a  certain  degree  of  imagi- 
nation is  required  to  make  a  fine  portrait.  Chantrey's  portraits 
were  of  the  best  kind,  characteristic  and  not  literal  ;  and  so  I  am 
convinced  were  Reynolds's,  who,  I  have  no  doubt,  often  gave  to 
his  heads  touches  of  the  greatest  value  when  the  sitter  was  away. 


102 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  VII. 


He  who  can  only  work  with  his  model  before  him  can  never 
'  produce  an  elevated  work,  either  in  history,  portraits,  or  land- 
scape. 

"  But  a  great  portrait  painter  or  sculptor  must  look  to  have  the 
works  of  inferior  artists  often  preferred  to  his.  I  am  told  Rey- 
nolds's portraits  frequently  disappointed  the  people  for  whom  they 
were  painted,  and  I  know  that  Chan  trey's  busts  sometimes  did. 
The  family  of  Lord  Egremont  preferred  a  bust  of  his  lordship, 
by  Behnes,  to  the  noble  one  by  Chantrey,  one  of  the  very  best 
of  his  works,  and,  to  my  mind,  possessing  all  the  character  of 
Lord  Egremont's  fine  head.  If,  as  I  think,  it  be  true,  that  a 
great  artist  will  often  give  the  happiest  touches  to  his  work  in  the 
absence  of  his  model,  it  is  equally  true  that  he  who  trusts  to 
imagination  alone,  is  in  great  danger  of  falling  into  irreclaimable 
mannerism  or  insipid  vagueness.  The  greatest  artist  is  the  one 
who  knows  how  to  avail  himself  of  every  means  towards  his  end, 
and  who  is  quickest  at  taking  advantage  of  every  favourable 
accident  that  nature  presents.  The  results  of  such  powers  will 
make  every  work  of  his  hand  a  work  of  imagination,  whatever 
the  subject  may  be.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  always  felt  that 
there  is  more  poetry  in  the  portraits  of  Reynolds  than  in  nine- 
tenths  of  the  pictures  professedly  poetic  in  subject  

"  In  the  course  of  a  walk  with  Mr.  Rogers,  he  talked  much  of 
Canova,  whom  he  described  as  a  most  amiable  man.  Canova 
told  him  that  he  was  in  love  when  he  was  but  five  years  old. 

"  At  dinner,  Mr.  Rogers  related  a  story  of  a  nervous  gentle- 
man who  kept  a  fire-escape  —  a  kind  of  sack  in  which  he  could 
lower  himself  from  his  window.  Being  suddenly  awakened,  one 
night,  by  the  sound,  as  he  thought,  of  the  wheels  of  a  fire-engine, 
followed  by  a  tremendous  knocking  at  the  door,  he  descended  in 
his  sack  in  great  haste,  and  reached  the  street  just  in  time  to 
hand  his  wife  (who  had  been  to  the  opera)  out  of  her  carriage. 

"  Another  story  related  by  Rogers  was  of  a  wretch  who,  for 
some  atrocious  crime,  was  hanged  in  chains.  His  whole  life  had 
been  so  desperately  wicked  that  the  country  people  believed  his 
body  would  be  carried  away  by  the  Devil.  The  day  after  his 
execution  their  prediction  seemed  verified,  for  the  corpse  was 
gone ;  but,  strange  to  say,  in  about  eight  or  ten  days  it  was  there 


CHAP.  VII.] 


HOLLAND  HOUSE. 


103 


again,  safely  enclosed  within  the  irons  and  as  if  but  newly  dead. 
The  truth  was,  that  on  the  night  of  the  execution,  a  farmer  and 
his  son  who  had  been  for  some  days  from  home,  were  returning 
in  a  cart,  and  passing  close  to  the  gibbet  were  startled  by  a  groan 
from  the  body,  and  then  a  feeble  voice  imploring  help.  When 
they  got  the  fellow  home,  they  nursed  him  with  the  greatest  care, 
till,  in  the  middle  of  one  night,  his  deliverer  was  disturbed  by  a 
noise,  and  discovered  the  villain  in  the  act  of  packing  up  every 
article  of  value  in  the  house  which  he  could  conveniently  carry 
away.  The  farmer  had  just  time  to  awake  his  son,  who  agreed 
with  him  that  they  had  better  put  their  new  friend  into  his  chains 
again. 

"  In  looking  over  a  large  collection  of  prints  from  Sir  Joshua, 
Mr.  Rogers  observed  of  a  common-place-looking  General  among 
them,  1  That  is  one  of  the  men  of  whom  Lord  North  said,  when 
a  list  was  presented  to  him  of  officers  to  be  sent  to  America,  "  I 
know  not  what  effect  these  names  may  have  on  the  enemy,  but 
they  make  me  tremble." ' 

"  I  noticed  that  Mr.  Neat,  in  speaking  of  the  music  of  Handel 
and  Beethoven,  made  use  of  the  words  outline  and  colour.  Thus, 
the  arts  borrow  terms  from  each  other.  So  painters  speak  of 
tone  and  harmony.  Neat  said,  that  eminent  musicians  were 
sometimes  insensible  to  the  beauties  of  a  fine  piece  of  music  on 
first  hearing  it ;  and  he  had  known  them  dislike  a  piece,  which 
afterwards  gave  them  the  greatest  delight.  I  told  him  what  Sir 
Joshua  said  of  his  great  disappointment  on  seeing  the  frescos  of 
Raphael. 

"  Mrs.  Malaprop's  axiom,  that '  it  is  best  to  begin  with  a  little 
hate,'  is  not  altogether  absurd.  Certainly,  when  we  do  change 
in  anything  from  such  a  beginning,  our  liking  is  always  the 
stronger. 

"  September  7th.  —  Dined  at  Holland  House.  *  *  *  Lord  Hol- 
land speaking  of  Boswell,  whom  he  remembered,  said  that 
whenever  he  came  into  a  company  where  Horace  Walpole  was, 
Walpole  would  throw  back  Ins  head,  purse  up  his  mouth  very 
significantly,  and  not  speak  a  word  while  Boswell  remained. 

"September  13th.  —  Looking  into  DTsraeli's  'Curiosities  of 
Literature,'  I  find  an  article  entitled  '  Poets,  Philosophers,  and 


104 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE.  [chap.  vii. 


Artists  made  by  Accident.'  D'Israeli  begins  truly  enough  by 
saying,  'accident  has  frequently  occasioned  the  most  eminent 
geniuses  to  display  their  power/  and  then  gives  about  a  dozen 
instances.  If,  however,  he  means  that  but  for  those  accidents  the 
powers  of  such  men  might  have  remained  unknown  to  them- 
selves, and  therefore  unused ;  or  that  men  differently  constituted, 
meeting  with  similar  accidents,  would  have  done  what  they  did, 
he  is,  I  think,  mistaken.  We  learn  to  talk  by  the  accident  of 
hearing  others  talk  ;  but,  without  a  natural  capability  of  speech, 
we  should  remain  dumb  as  our  cats  and  dogs  do,  though  they 
hear  us  speak.  Gibbon,  it  is  true,  might  not  have  written  his 
'  Decline  of  the  Roman  Empire,'  but  for  the  accident  of  hearing 
the  bare-footed  friars  singing  vespers  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter ; 
but  he  would  have  written  something  else  in  which  the  same 
powers  of  mind  and  turn  of  thinking  would  have  been  displayed. 
The  accident  did  not  make  Gibbon  an  historian,  it  only  directed 
him  in  the  choice  of  a  subject.  Neither  is  it  to  be  supposed,  that 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  would  not  have  been  a  painter,  and  every 
whit  as  great  a  one,  had  he  never  seen  4  Richardson's  Treatise.' 
He  read  the  treatise  with  interest,  because  his  mind  was  natural- 
ly turned  more  towards  painting  than  to  anything  else.  Dr. 
Franklin,  another  of  DTsraeli's  instances,  might  have  taken  up 
Richardson  fifty  times,  and  fifty  times  laid  him  aside  without 
reading  a  page  ;  but,  when  Defoe's  '  Essay  on  Projects '  came  in 
his  way,  he  read  it  with  avidity ;  and  as  he  himself  says,  '  de- 
rived impressions  that  influenced  some  of  the  principal  events  of 
his  life.'  Yet  we  cannot  suppose,  that,  but  for  this  book,  the 
world  would  not  have  known  Franklin  as  a  philosopher.  But  to 
return  to  Reynolds  and  Richardson,  it  must  be  admitted  that  if 
even  books  could  infuse  a  love  of  art,  and  an  ambition  to  shine 
as  a  painter,  into  a  mind  hitherto  insensible  to  such  things,  Rich- 
ardson's discourses  would  be  the  most  likely  to  do  so. 

"  December  1st.  —  Dined  with  Constable.  He  mentioned  that 
Wilkie  and  he  were  students  together  at  the  Academy.  Wilkie 
told  him  that  when  he  studied  at  the  Scottish  Academy,  Graham, 
the  master  of  it,  was  accustomed  to  say  to  the  students,  in  the 
words  of  Reynolds  — '  If  you  have  genius,  industry  will  improve 
it ;  if  you  have  none,  industry  will  supply  its  place.'    '  So,'  said 


CHAP.  VII.] 


SIR  GEORGE  BEAUMONT. 


105 


Wilkie,  '  I  was  determined  to  be  very  industrious,  for  I  knew  I 
had  no  genius.'  Wilkie  said,  also,  to  Constable  —  'When  Linnell, 
and  Burnet'  (who  were  his  fellow  students  in  London),  'are  talk- 
ing about  art,  I  always  get  as  close  as  I  can,  to  hear  all  they  say, 
for  they  know  a  great  deal,  and  I  know  very  little.'  This  was 
said  with  perfect  sincerity,  for  Wilkie  was  modest. 

"  It  was  not  because  Sir  George  Beaumont  was  a  man  of  rank 
and  wealth,  that  Wilkie  was  so  docile  to  his  teaching.  Sir  George 
was,  in  the  first  place,  a  much  older  man  ;  and,  besides  being  a 
clever  amateur  painter,  had  known,  intimately,  Reynolds  and 
Gainsborough,  indeed  all  the  first  artists,  and  many  of  his  own 
opinions  were  therefore  derived  from  the  highest  authorities ; 
added  to  which  he  was  an  admirable  talker,  and  in  every  way  a 
very  delightful  person." 

On  the  1st  of  April,  1837,  as  I  was  dressing,  I  saw  from  my 
window,  Pitt  (a  man  employed  by  Constable  to  carry  messages) 
at  the  gate.  He  sent  up  word  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  me, 
and  I  ran  down  expecting  one  of  Constable's  amusing  notes,  or  a 
message  from  him  ;  but  the  message  was  from  his  children,  and  to 
tell  me  that  he  had  died  suddenly  the  night  before.  My  wife  and 
I  were  in  Charlotte  Street  as  soon  as  possible.  I  went  up  into 
his  bed-room,  where  he  lay,  looking  as  if  in  a  tranquil  sleep ;  his 
watch,  which  his  hand  had  so  lately  wound  up,  ticking  on  a  table 
by  his  side,  on  which  also  lay  a  book  he  had  been  reading  scarce- 
ly an  hour  before  his  death.*  He  had  died  as  he  lived,  sur- 
rounded by  art,  for  the  walls  of  the  little  attic  were  covered  with 
engravings,  and  his  feet  nearly  touched  a  print  of  the  beautiful 
moonlight  by  Rubens,  belonging  to  Mr.  Rogers.  I  remained  the 
whole  of  the  day  in  the  house,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  in  his 
room,  watching  the  progress  of  the  casts  that  were  made  from  his 
face  by  his  neighbour,  Mr.  Joseph,  and  by  Mr.  Davis.  I  felt  his 
loss  far  less  then  than  I  have  since  done  —  than  I  do  even  now. 
Its  suddenness  produced  the  effect  of  a  blow  which  stuns  at  first 
and  pains  afterwards  ;  and  I  have  lived  to  learn  how  much  more 
I  have  lost  in  trim,  than  at  that  time  I  supposed.  Those  personal 
qualities  that  attached  me  to  him  gained  more  and  more  on  me 

*  It  was  a  volume  of  Southey's  "  Life  of  Cowper,"  containing  many  of  the 
poet's  letters. 


106 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE.  [chap.  vii. 


while  he  lived,  and  the  examination  of  his  papers  and  letters 
since  his  death,  has  increased  my  esteem  for  him  in  proportion 
as  they  gave  me  a  deeper  insight  into  his  character.  It  is  a  grat- 
ification to  me  to  believe  that  some  of  my  feelings  and  tastes  are 
like  his  ;  indeed,  if  this  be  not  true,  I  know  not  how  to  account 
for  the  great  delight  his  pictures  give  me,  a  delight  distinct  from, 
and  I  almost  think  superior  to,  that  which  I  receive  from  any 
other  pictures  whatever. 

Among  all  the  landscape  painters,  ancient  or  modern,  no  one 
carries  me  so  entirely  to  nature  ;  and  I  can  truly  say,  that  since 
I  have  known  his  works  I  have  never  looked  at  a  tree  or  the  sky 
without  being  reminded  of  him. 

We  talk  of  untimely  deaths ;  but  all  deaths  I  believe  to  be 
merciful,  for  God,  no  doubt,  takes  every  one  of  us  at  the  time 
best  for  ourselves.  The  bodily  sufferings  that  immediately  pre- 
ceded Constable's  death,  though  acute,  were  of  very  short  dura- 
tion ;  and  he  was  spared  a  world  of  anxiety  which  the  thought 
of  leaving  his  children  young,  and  orphans,  must  have  occasioned, 
had  he  lingered  on  a  sick  bed  with  no  hope  of  recovery  — 
anxiety  which,  with  such  feelings  as  his,  would  have  been  ex- 
treme. 

I  have  said  in  another  place  that  Constable  was  a  gentleman, 
everywhere  and  at  all  times,  and  as  much  to  the  humblest  as  to 
the  greatest  people.  He  even  conciliated  that  untractable  class, 
the  hackney  coachmen ;  for,  in  his  time,  there  were  no  cabs.  He 
would  say  on  getting  into  a  coach  :  — 

"  Now,  my  good  fellow,  drive  me  a  shilling  fare  towards  so  and 
so,  and  don't  cheat  yourself." 

Not  long  after  his  death,  I  was  coming  away  from  his  house, 
and  sent  for  a  coach  from  the  stand  near  it.  When  I  got  home 
the  driver  said  :  —  "I  knew  Mr.  Constable  ;  and,  when  I  heard 
he  was  dead,  I  was  as  sorry  as  if  he  had  been  my  own  father  — 
he  was  as  nice  a  man  as  that,  sir." 

To  the  selection  from  Constable's  letters  which  I  printed  in 
the  form  of  a  memoir,  I  added  recollections  of  son^e  of  his  pithy 
sayings.  In  addition  to  those,  I  remember  two  that  may  be  worth 
preserving.  He  numbered  among  his  friends  Doctors  Bailey  and 
Gooch,  and  had  a  great  respect  for  the  abilities  of  such  men. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


CONSTABLE,  THE  PAINTER. 


107 


But  this  did  not  hinder  him  from  saying,  "  As  every  animal  has 
its  peculiar  food,  or  prey,  provided  by  nature,  I  look  upon  women 
and  children  to  be  the  natural  prey  of  doctors." 

Lord  Northwick  met  him  in  an  auction  room,  and  said  :  —  "I 
shall  be  glad,  Mr.  Constable,  to  take  advantage  of  your  judgment 
here." 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  lord,"  he  said,  "  the  judgment  of  a  painter 
is  of  very  little  value  in  such  a  place  as  this,  for  we  only  know 
good  pictures  from  bad  ones.  We  know  nothing  of  their  pedi- 
grees, of  their  market  value,  or  how  far  certain  masters  are  in 
fashion." 

In  the  room  in  which  this  was  said,  and  at  the  same  time,  a 
picture  by  Bonnington  was  placed  as  a  pendant  to  one  by  Con- 
stable, and  he  said  to  a  friend  — "  Bonnington's  picture  will  sell 
high  and  mine  low ; "  and  this  happened,  but  the  reverse  would 
happen  now. 

He  said  of  a  portrait  painter  who  had  worked  his  way  to  some 
eminence,  but  whose  art  was  of  the  tamest  and  most  common- 
place kind,  that,  when  he  painted  a  head,  "  he  took  out  all  the 
bones  and  all  the  brains."  In  this  saying  he  characterised  an 
entire  class  of  portraiture,  and  not  a  small  one. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Lord  Egremont  —  The  Coronation  —  The  Duke  of  Wellington  —  Lord  Mel- 
bourne —  The  Princess '  Royal  —  Wilkie's  Asiatic  Sketches  —  Raimbach, 
the  Engraver  —  Newton  and  Wilkie  —  Wilkie's  Letters. 

In  the  summer  of  1837  I  was  at  Pet  worth,  and  saw  Lord 
Egremont  for  the  last  time.  He  had  just  put  up  a  marble  slab, 
in  the  church,  bearing  inscriptions  to  the  memories  of  the  9th, 
10th,  and  11th  Earls  of  Northumberland,  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, and  some  other  members  of  the  Percy  family.  They  con- 
cluded thus : — 

"  This  Monument  was  erected  to  their  memory  by  their  descendant,  George, 
Earl  of  Egremont,  in  the  year  1837,  the  86th  of  his  age. 

"  Mortuis  Moriturus." 

My  next  journey  to  Petworth  was  to  attend  his  funeral.  On 
that  occasion  all  the  shops  in  the  town  were  closed,  and  business 
entirely  suspended.  Indeed  all  the  inhabitants  were  present, 
either  following  the  procession,  or  lining  the  way  as  it  passed. 
There  was  not  a  single  carriage.  All  the  mourners  followed  the 
coffin  on  foot,  and  the  line  was  continued  to  a  great  length.  The 
many  artists  who  had  enjoyed  his  patronage,  Turner,  Phillips, 
Carew,  Clint,  and  myself,  were  present. 

For  more  than  ten  years  I  had,  nearly  every  season,  spent 
from  one  to  two  months  at  Petworth,  with  my  wife  and  children  ; 
and  we  were  always  made  to  feel  quite  at  home  there.  Such  a 
friend,  in  such  a  sphere  of  life,  we  can  never  hope  to  find  again. 

One  little  circumstance  I  cannot  help  mentioning,  because  it 
marks  the  character  of  Lord  Egremont,  and  shows  that  to  the 
last  moment  of  his  life  he  was,  as  he  had  always  been,  studying 
the  good  of  others.  He  was  remarkably  fond  of  children  ;  and, 
as  I  have  mentioned,  was  accustomed  to  have  all  that  were  in  the 
house  brought  into  his  room  while  he  was  dressing.    On  the  day 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


LORD  EGREMONT. 


109 


of  his  death  those  of  his  grand-children  who  were  at  Petworth 
were  brought  to  him ;  but  when  they  were  about  to  kiss  him  as 
usual,  he  motioned  them  away,  no  doubt  thinking  his  breath 
might  do  them  harm. 

After  what  I  had  known  of  Lord  Egremont,  I  was  amused  to 
see  him  characterised  in  one  of  Walpole's  letters  to  Sir  Horace 
Mann  as  "  a  most  worthless  young  fellow?'  *  He  had  made  a 
proposal  of  marriage  to  Walpole's  niece,  lady  Maria  Waldegrave, 
second  daughter  of  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester.  Walpole,  in 
mentioning  that  the  offer  was  accepted,  says,  "  He  is  eight-and- 
twenty,  is  handsome,  and  has  between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand 
a-year."  In  less  than  three  weeks,  however,  Sir  Horace  Mann 
is  told  that  the  match  is  broken  off.  Lord  Egremont,  who  is 
"weak  and  irresolute,  has  behaved  with  so  much  neglect  and 
want  of  attention,  that  Lady  Maria  heroically  took  the  resolution 
of  writing  to  the  Duchess,  who  was  in  the  country,  to  desire  her 
leave  to  break  off  the  match.  The  Duchess,  who  had  disliked 
the  conduct  of  her  future  son-in-law,  but  could  not  refuse  her  con- 
sent to  so  advantageous  a  match,  gladly  assented ;  but  the  foolish 
boy,  by  new  indiscretion,  has  drawn  universal  odium  on  himself. 
He  instantly  published  the  rupture,  but  said  nothing  of  Lady 
Maria's  having  been  the  first  to  declare  off ;  and  everybody  thinks 
he  broke  off  the  match,  and  condemns  him  ten  times  more  than 
would  have  been  the  case  if  he  had  told  the  truth,  though  he  was 
guilty  enough  in  giving  the  provocation." 

Now  Lord  Egremont  was  certainly,  when  I  had  the  happiness 
of  knowing  him,  anything  but  a  foolish,  a  weak,  or  an  irresolute 
man ;  but  he  was  shy  and  taciturn,  and  probably  had  been  still 
more  so  in  his  youth.  It  seems  probable,  then,  that  the  lady  re- 
jected him  solely  from  not  understanding  his  character.  He  was 
not  a  man  to  talk  sentiment,  or  to  throw  himself  on  his  knees  at 
the  feet  of  a  woman ;  not  that  he  was  in  the  least  insensible  to  the 
charms  of  the  sex,  but  for  the  reasons  I  have  mentioned.  What 
attentions  she  may  have  expected,  and  how  far  he  failed  in  them, 
it  is  impossible  to  guess  ;  but  it  is  clear,  from  her  uncle's  account, 
that  Lord  Egremont  did  not  in  the  least  consider  himself  to 
blame. 

*  Letter  333,  dated  July  24th,  1780. 


110 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  VIII. 


In  the  summer  of  1838  Lady  Holland  sent  for  me  to  break- 
fast, as  she  had  something  to  tell  me.  This  was,  that  the  Queen 
had  expressed  a  wish  to  see  the  portrait  I  had  painted  of  Lord 
Holland.  "  I  thought,"  said  Lady  Holland,  "  she  might  as  well 
see  the  artist  with  it ;  and  Lord  Melbourne  has  just  written  to  me 
to  say  she  will  see  you  to-morrow  at  two  o'clock."  I  saw  that  all 
this  was  kindly  managed  by  Lady  Holland  for  my  advantage  ; 
and  so  it  turned  out. 

Lady  Holland,  without  my  asking  or  expecting  it,  procured  for 
me  a  ticket  to  see  the  Coronation  from  the  Earl  Marshal's  box. 
A  ticket  had  also  been  sent  to  me,  as  a  member  of  the  Academy, 
for  another  part  of  the  Abbey,  which  enabled  my  wife  to  see  the 
ceremony.  We  set  out  together,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
for  Westminster.  On  this  one  occasion  in  my  life  I  wore  a  court 
dress.  My  wife  was  in  a  full  evening  dress,  and  it  seemed  very 
odd  to  find  ourselves  walking  in  the  street  (for  we  walked,  when 
near  the  Abbey,  to  save  time)  such  odd  figures,  at  so  early  an 
hour  of  the  day.  We  were,  however,  kept  in  countenance  by  a 
long  procession  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  most  of  them  much  more 
finely  dressed  than  we. 

The  ceremony  was  well  worth  seeing,  but  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  if  another  Coronation  should  take  place  during  my  life,  I 
certainly  should  not  put  on  a  court  dress,  get  up  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  remain  in  Westminster  Abbey  till  four  in  the 
afternoon,  to  see  it. 

It  led,  however,  to  my  painting  the  Queen  receiving  the  Sacra- 
ment;  and  the  doing  this  procured  me  opportunities  of  seeing 
something  of  Her  Majesty,  and  of  several  members  of  the  Royal 
family ;  for  I  was  obliged  to  take  the  picture  to  the  houses  of  the 
Dukes  of  Sussex  and  Cambridge,  and  the  Princess  Augusta. 
With  the  Princess  Augusta  I  was  perfectly  delighted.  I  never 
met  with  any  lady,  old  or  young,  of  more  charming  manners. 

The  Duke  of  Cambridge  reminded  me,  in  his  manner  of  talk- 
ing, of  Peter  Pindar's  account  of  his  father.  While  he  sat  to 
me,  there  was  always  a  gentleman  in  the  room  (not  one  of  his 
household)  to  whom  he  addressed  himself,  sometimes  in  English 
and  sometimes  in  German,  and  his  talk  was  nothing  but  a  series 
of  questions.    One  day  he  sent  this  gentleman  out  of  the  room 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON. 


Ill 


for  something,  and  then  talked  to  me,  which  he  had  not  done 
before.  "Do  you  paint  all  day?.  Are  you  a  Royal  Academi- 
cian ?  Are  you  painting  any  other  picture  ?  Do  you  walk  here 
or  ride  ?  "  &c,  &c. 

The  Duke  of  Sussex,  talked  better  and  was  very  pleasant.  It 
was  impossible  not  to  like  him,  but  he  wasted  my  time  miserably ; 
keeping  me  three  entire  days  doing  nothing,  by  not  sitting  when 
he  had  appointed.  About  once  an  hour  a  servant  came  to  me  in 
the  library,  where  I  had  the  picture,  to  tell  me  the  Duke  had 
visitors,  but  would  be  with  me  very  soon. 

I  wrote  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington  to  say  that  I  was  com- 
manded by  the  Queen  to  introduce  his  portrait  into  a  picture  I 
was  painting  for  Her  Majesty.  He  answered  my  note  by  return 
of  post,  and  the  next  day  he  called.  His  first  words  were :  "  You 
live  a  great  way  from  my  house ;  five  miles,  I  should  say."  I 
said  I  did  not  think  it  was  more  than  three.  "  Oh,  you're  mis- 
taken, it's  five  miles."  I  then  said,  as  I  was  fully  aware  of  the 
value  of  his  time,  I  would  take  the  picture  to  Apsley  House,  if 
agreeable  to  him.  He  was  pleased  with  this,  and  appointed  an 
early  day ;  "  but,"  he  added,  "  my  time  is  so  little  my  own  that  I 
may  not  be  able  to  sit.  However,  if  I  can't,  I  will  send  you 
word  before  you  leave  home  in  the  morning  ;  for  your  time  is  of 
as  much  consequence  to  you,  as  mine  is  to  me."  On  the  morning 
appointed,  as  I  heard  nothing  from  him  to  prevent  me,  I  took  the 
picture  to  Apsley  House,  and  the  first  thing  he  said  was,  "  Well, 
don't  you  find  it  five  miles  ?  "  I  said  as  before,  and  what  was  the 
truth,  that  the  distance  was  not  more  than  three  miles,  but  he  re- 
peated that  I  was  mistaken  ;  he  would  have  it  to  be  but  five. 

When  I  had  sketched  his  figure,  I  asked  him  to  look  at  it.  He 
said,  "  You  have  made  my  head  too  large,  and  this  is  what  all  the 
painters  have  done  to  whom  I  have  sat.  Painters  are  not  aware 
how  very  small  a  part  of  the  human  figure  the  head  is.  Titian 
was  the  only  painter  who  understood  this,  and  by  making  his 
heads  small  he  did  wonders." 

The  Duke  could  talk  more  to  the  purpose  on  his  own  subjects. 
I  was  told  that  he  said,  when  describing  the  Battle  of  Waterloo 
at  his  own  table,  to  some  coxcomb  who  asked  him  how  it  was 
that  the  French  did  not,  at  such  a  time,  attack  him  in  such  a 
place  —  "  Because  they  were  not  d  d  fools." 


112 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  vih. 


Next  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  the  most  remarkable  man  in 
the  picture  was  Lord  Melbourne.  I  had  seen  him,  for  the  first 
time,  years  before  in  Murray's  drawing-room  in  Albemarle  Street. 
In  that  room,  Murray  held,  every  morning,  such  levees  as  were 
not  to  be  matched  in  London.  Everybody  who  knew  him,  and 
had  any  business  with  him,  walked  into  it  without  announcement 
or  ceremony ;  and  there  were  to  be  found  the  most  eminent 
authors  and  politicians  of  all  parties,  drawn  together  by  the  com- 
mon bond  of  literature.  It  was  then  that  Murray  was  receiving 
MSS.  and  frequent  letters  from  Lord  Byron,  and  it  may  be  con- 
ceived how  interesting  were  the  fragments  of  these  with  which  the 
great  publisher  treated  his  company. 

At  later  periods  I  saw  much  of  Lord  Melbourne  at  Holland 
House.  His  head  was  a  truly  noble  one.  I  think,  indeed,  he 
was  the  finest  specimen  of  manly  beauty  in  the  meridian  of  life  I 
ever  saw.  Not  only  were  his  features  eminently  handsome,  but 
his  expression  was  in  the  highest  degree  intellectual.  His  laugh 
was  frequent,  and  the  most  joyous  possible,  and  his  voice  so  deep 
and  musical,  that  to  hear  him  say  the  most  ordinary  things  was  a 
pleasure.  But  his  frankness,  his  freedom  from  affectation,  and 
his  peculiar  humour,  rendered  almost  everything  he  said,  though 
it  seemed  perfectly  natural,  yet  quite  original.  At  Holland 
House  he  was  abusing  women  to  Lady  Holland.  His  strong 
charge  against  the  sex,  was  the  want  of  charity  of  women  for 
women.    He  called  them  "  devils  to  each  other." 

"  But,"  said  Lady  Holland,  "  what  nurses  they  are.  What 
would  you  do  without  women  in  your  illnesses  ?  " 

"  I  would  rather  have  men  about  me  when  I  am  ill ;  I  think 
it  requires  very  strong  health  to  put  up  with  women." 

"  Oh  ! "  said  the  lady,  tapping  him  with  her  fan,  "  you  have 
lived  among  such  a  rantipole  set." 

I  met  Lord  Melbourne  at  Lady  Holland's  a  day  or  two  after  he 
ceased  to  be  prime  minister.  He  was  as  joyous  as  ever,  and  only 
took  part  in  the  conversation  respecting  the  changes  in  the  Royal 
household  (which  were  not  then  completed)  to  make  every  body 
laugh. 

"  I  hear,"  said  a  lady  u  that  ,"  naming  a  duke  of  not  the 

most  correct  habits,  "  is  quite  scurrilous  at  not  getting  an  appoint- 
ment." 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


LOED  MELBOURNE. 


113 


"  No,"  said  Lady  Holland,  "  lie  can't  be  scurrilous." 
"  Well,  then,  he  is  very  angry." 

"  It  serves  him  right,"  said  Lord  Melbourne,  "  for  being  a  tory. 
None  of  these  immoral  men  ought  to  be  tories.  If  he  had  come 
to  me  I  would  not  have  refused  him." 

While  sitting  to  me,  he  said  he  remembered,  when  a  child,  sitting 
to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  Sir  Joshua  played  with  him  and  rode 
him  on  his  foot,  and  said,  "  Now  be  a  good  boy,  and  sit  a  little 
longer,  and  you  shall  have  another  ride." 

He  asked  me  how  it  was  that  Raphael  was  employed  by  the 
Pope  to  paint  the  walls  of  the  Vatican. 

I  said,  "  Because  of  his  great  excellence." 

"  But  was  not  his  uncle,  Bramante,  architect  to  the  Pope  ?  " 

I  replied,  "  I  believe  Bramante  was  his  uncle." 

"  Then  it  was  a  job,  you  may  be  sure,"  he  said,  with  his  hearty 
laugh. 

Lord  Melbourne,  with  all  his  abilities,  his  good  sense,  and  his 
scholarship  —  for  I  am  told  he  was  an  accomplished  scholar  — 
did  not  value  art,  and  seemed  to  have  a  bad  opinion  of  mankind. 
Perhaps  what  Lady  Holland  said  to  him,  when  he  expressed  his 
opinion  of  women,  may  account  for  his  small  belief  in  human 
goodness.    He  had  lived  among  a  bad  set. 

I  found  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Dr.  Howley,  a  most 
agreeable  sitter.  He  talked  of  Burns,  and  quoted  passages  from 
his  poems  as  instances  of  exceeding  refinement  of  taste.  He  had 
known  Kemble  and  Mrs.  Siddons,  and  been  much  with  Fuseli  in 
the  early  part  of  his  life.  Fuseli,  speaking  of  Dr.  Howley,  said, 
"  Before  he  became  a  dignitary  of  the  church,  he  used  to  come  to 
my  house  frequently,  and  sit  there  for  hours  together;  but  for 
some  years  he  seems  to  forget  even  my  person."  * 

The  Archbishop,  without  reference  to  this  passage,  which  per- 
haps he  had  not  seen,  told  me  that,  greatly  as  he  admired  the 
genius  of  Fuseli,  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  from  him  on  ac- 
count of  his  ungovernable  temper,  which  was  apt  to  explode  in 
downright  insult  on  his  associates. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  being  much  at  Lambeth  while  Dr.  How- 
ley lived.  Mrs.  Howley  asked  me  to  paint  a  small  portrait  of 
*  Knowles's  "  Life  of  Fuseli." 

8 


114 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  VIII. 


him  for  herself.  "  He  has  always  been  painted,"  she  said,  "  in  his 
robes,  but  I  don't  want  a  portrait  of  the  Archbishop  ;  I  want  a 
portrait  of  my  husband"  I  painted  him  for  her  in  his  ordinary- 
dress,  and  she  was  so  good  as  to  pay  me  much  more  for  it  than 
the  price  I  asked. 

In  1841, 1  painted  a  second  picture  for  the  Queen — the  Chris- 
tening of  the  Princess  Royal.  I  was  admitted  to  see  the  cere- 
mony, and  made  a  slight  sketch  of  the  Royal  personages  as  they 
stood  round  the  font  in  the  room.  I  made  a  study  from  the  little 
Princess  a  few  days  afterwards.  She  was  then  three  months  old, 
and  a  finer  child  of  that  age  I  never  saw.  It  is  a  curious  proof 
of  the  readiness  with  which  people  believe  whatever  they  hear  to 
the  disadvantage  of  those  placed  high  in  rank  above  them,  that  at 
the  time  at  which  I  made  the  sketch,  it  was  said  everywhere  but 
in  the  palace  and  by  those  who  belonged  to  the  Royal  household, 
that  the  Princess  was  born  blind,  and  by  many  it  was  even  be- 
lieved that  she  was  born  without  feet.  The  sketch  was  shown  at 
a  party  at  Mr.  Moon's  the  evening  after  I  made  it,  and  the  ladies 
all  said  "  What  a  pity  so  fine  a  child  should  be  entirely  blind."  It 
was  in  vain  I  told  them  that  her  eyes  were  beautifully  clear  and 
bright,  and  that  she  took  notice  of  everything  about  her  ;  —  I  was 
told  that  though  her  eyes  looked  bright,  and  though  she  might  ap- 
pear to  turn  them  to  every  object,  it  was  certain  she  was  blind.  I 
remembered  that  it  had  been  said,  two  years  before,  that  the  Queen 
herself  could  scarcely  walk,  although  I  knew,  from  good  authority, 
that  she  had  danced  out  a  pair  of  shoes  at  one  of  her  own  balls, 
and  when  the  company  thought  she  had  retired  for  the  evening, 
she  reappeared  with  a  new  pair. 

It  is  by  the  ready  credence  given  to  such  tales,  that  people 
balance  the  account  between  their  own  lot  and  the  splendour  of 
high  station.  When  the  marriage  between  the  Queen  and  Prince 
Albert  took  place,  bets  were  laid  in  the  club  houses  that  in  six 
months  they  would  be  living  separately. 

The  most  agreeable  part  of  my  task  in  painting  the  christening 
of  the  Princess  Royal  was,  in  studying  the  fine  head  of  the  wisest 
and  best  of  living  kings,  Leopold,  a  man  whom  the  people  he 
reigns  over  scarcely  seem  to  deserve.  Nothing  could  be  more 
agreeable  than  his  manner,  and  that  of  his  amiable  queen,  who 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


WILKIE'S  ASIATIC  SKETCHES. 


115 


was  in  the  room  all  the  time  he  sat.  He  speaks  English  very- 
well,  and  she  also  spoke  it.  After  I  had  painted  for  some  time, 
she  said,  "  May  I  look  ?  "  and,  on  suggesting  some  alteration,  she 
said,  "  You  must  excuse  me,  I  speak  honest ;  but  if  I  am  wrong 
don't  mind  me." 

In  the  summer  of  1841,  the  country,  by  the  death  of  Wilkie, 
lost  a  great  artist,  and  his  friends  lost  a  most  amiable  and  honour- 
able man. 

When  his  last  works,  his  Asiatic  sketches,  were  exhibited  at 
Christie's  Rooms,  I  was  struck  with  the  contrast  they  presented 
to  the  common-place  materials  that  had  been  for  years  brought 
by  other  painterj  from  the  countries  Wilkie  had  last  visited,  and 
from  which  he  never  returned.  Their  grandeur  and  breadth  of 
style  were  as  striking  as  their  truth  of  character  and  -expression, 
and  in  all  there  was  a  degree  of  novelty,  from  his  choice  of  sub- 
ject and  mode  of  treatment,  which  I  was  not  prepared  to  see 
after  the  numerous  studies  that  had  been  brought  from  the  East 
by  other  artists. 

I  was  glad  to  see  the  sincere  homage  paid  to  his  genius  in  the 
high  prices  that  were  given  for  these  last  sketches,  though  it  was 
melancholy  to  think  that  the  industry  that  produced  them,  added 
to  the  excitement  of  the  scenes  in  which  they  were  made,  and 
the  effects  of  the  climate,  must  have  hastened  his  death. 

The  recollections  of  all  my  intercourse  with  Wilkie,  and  I 
knew  him  for  about  twenty  years,  are  altogether  delightful.  I 
had  no  reason  ever  to  alter  the  opinion  I  first  formed  of  him,  that 
he  was  a  truly  great  artist  and  a  truly  good  man.  The  little 
peculiarities  of  his  character,  as  they  all  arose  from  the  best  in- 
tentions, rather  endeared  him  to  his  friends  than  otherwise.  He 
was  a  modest  man,  and  had  no  wish  to  attract  attention  by  eccen- 
tricity ;  and  indeed  all  his  oddity,  and  he  was  in  many  things 
very  odd,  arose  from  an  extreme  desire  to  be  exactly  like  other 
people.  Naturally  shy  and  reserved,  he  forced  himself  to  talk. 
I  can  easily  conceive,  from  what  I  knew  of  him,  that  he  had  a 
great  repugnance  to  making  speeches  at  dinners  or  public  meetings, 
yet  knowing  that  from  the  station  he  had  acquired  he  must  do 
such  things,  he  made  public  speaking  a  study.  He  carried 
the  same  desire  of  being  correct  into  lessser  things,  not  from 


116 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  VIII. 


vanity,  but  from  a  respect  for  society,  for  he  considered  that 
genius  did  not  give  a  man  the  right  to  be  negligent  in  his 
manners,  even  in  trifles.  When  quadrilles  were  introduced, 
Wilkie,  who  like  most  other  people  of  his  rank  had  danced 
reels  and  country  dances  only,  set  himself  in  the  most  serious 
manner  to  study  them.  His  mind  was  not  a  quick  one,  and 
I  am  told  he  drew  ground  plans  and  elevations  of  the  new  dances 
to  aid  his  memory  in  retaining  the  lessons  of  his  master. 
Then,  in  dancing  them,  he  never  omitted  the  proper  step,  never 
for  an  instant  walked,  and  never  took  a  lady's  hand  without  bow- 
ing. All  this,  so  different  from  common  ball-room  habits,  gave  a 
formality  to  his  manner  that  was  extremely  amusing,  and  his 
dancing,  as  indeed  his  mode  of  doing  most  things,  was,  from  the 
same  cause,  very  unlike  that  of  any  body  else.  He  was  always 
ceremonious;  but,  as  I  have  said,  from  modesty,  and  not  from 
pride  or  affectation,  for  no  man  had  less  of  either.  Long  as  I 
knew  him,  and  latterly  in  very  close  intimacy,  he  never  addressed 
me  but  as  Mr.  Leslie. 

How  admirably  he  performed  every  duty  of  a  son,  a  brother, 
and  a  friend,  is  sufficiently  shown  in  Allan  Cunningham's  me- 
moirs of  him ;  and  that  his  strictly  economical  habits  were  con- 
sistent with  a  noble  liberality,  is  clear  from  a  passage  in  the 
"  Autobiography  of  Abraham  Raimbach,"  from  which,  as  a  less 
known  work,  I  transcribe  the  following  account  of  Wilkie's  con- 
duct to  him  respecting  the  first  plate  from  one  of  his  pictures 
which  Raimbach  engraved  :  — 

"  The  mutual  conditions  of  our  engagement  were  promptly 
arranged  upon  the  basis,  with  various  modifications,  of  one-third 
share  to  Wilkie,  and  two-thirds  to  me  ;  which  were  afterwards 
changed  to  one-fourth  and  three-fourths  respectively,  at  the  gener- 
ous and  unsolicited  suggestion  of  Wilkie." 

Raimbach  also  mentions  that  when,  in  order  to  engrave  the 
"  Village  Politicians,"  it  became  necessary  to  pay  to  Sam.  Rey- 
nolds one  hundred  guineas  in  consideration  of  the  right  to  engrave 
it  which  had  been  granted  to  him,  and  it  was  agreed  that  this 
sum  should  be  jointly  paid  by  Raimbach  and  Wilkie,  the  latter 
"  subsequently  took  the  whole  most  liberally  on  himself." 

Wilkie  was  always  thinking  of  his  art,  and  it  may  raise  a  smile 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


NEWTON  AND  WILKIE. 


117 


to  say  that  he  had  a  true  artist's  appreciation  of  the  capabilities 
of  a  cocked  hat.  A  cocked  hat  is  not  only  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  coverings  for  the  head  ever  invented,  but  by  the 
variety  of  ways  in  which  it  may  be  worn,  it  gives  expression  to 
greater  varieties  of  character  than  anything  else  that  ever  man 
put  on. 

We  have  only  to  turn  over  the  works  of  Hogarth  to  be  con- 
vinced of  this.  I  believe  the  cocked  hats  of  the  Chelsea  pen- 
sioners were  among  Wilkie's  inducements  to  paint  his  picture  of 
the  "  Reading  of  the  News  of  Waterloo."  His  "  Parish  Beadle  " 
also,  and  his  "  Napoleon  and  the  Pope,"  each  had,  to  him,  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  very  characteristic  cocked  hat.  Had  Napoleon 
worn  a  round  hat,  Wilkie  would  never  have  put  in  on  his  head. 
Indeed,  these  execrable  round  hats,  which  have  now  been  worn 
for  more  than  half  a  century,  almost  preclude  any  modern  out- 
door subject  from  being  painted. 

At  the  funeral  of  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  Wilkie  and  Con- 
stable walked  together.  The  cocked  hat  of  the  city  marshal,  on 
that  occcasion,  was  dressed  out  with  a  large  quantity  of  black 
silk.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony,  when  the  company  were 
ranged  in  a  circle  under  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's,  this  officer 
stepped  forward  to  speak  to  the  undertaker.  As  he  stood  for  a 
minute  holding  this  awful  hat  behind  him,  it  caught  the  downcast 
eye  of  Wilkie,  who  whispered  to  Constable,  "  Don't  you  find  a 
cocked  hat  a  very  difficult  thing  to  manage  in  a  picture  ?  "  He 
soon  became  almost  loud  as  he  pointed  out  the  fine  effect  of  Mr. 
Wontner's  hat,  with  its  sable  trappings. 

Wilkie  and  Newton  made  an  excursion  together  into  Derby- 
shire, and  visited  Chatsworth.  After  they  had  been  conducted 
over  the  house,  Newton  inquired  for  a  picture  painted  by  himself, 
and  was  told  it  was  in  the  Duke's  sitting-room,  and  could  not  be 
shown  without  his  permission. 

I  should  here  mention,  that  when  this  picture  was  exhibited 
at  the  Academy,  it  was  placed  much  higher  than  Newton  liked ; 
and  he  remarked  that  if  it  should  be  sold,  the  purchaser  must 
be  a  very  tall  man ;  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  is  above  six 
feet  high.  Newton  was  pleased  to  find  that  he  kept  it  in  the 
room  he  most  constantly  occupied,  and  Wilkie  said,  "  If  there 


118 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  VIII. 


were  a  picture  of  mine  here,  I  would  not  go  away  with- 
out seeing  it."  The  Duke,  they  were  told,  was  out,  but  not 
away  from  his  own  grounds,  so  they  determined  to  look  for  him  ; 
but  when  they  saw  him  at  a  distance,  Wilkie  hesitated,  "  The 
Duke,"  he  said,  "  will  think  we  came  for  an  invitation.  He  must 
ask  us  to  dine." 

"  We  can  decline,"  replied  Newton. 

"  True,"  said  Wilkie  ;  "  but  suppose  he  should  not  ask  us  ?  " 
And  they  went  away  without  speaking  to  his  Grace. 

With  Newton,  Landseer,  Callcott,  and  myself,  Wilkie  had 
passed  a  few  days  in  a  visit  to  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Bedford 
at  Woburn,  and  as  he  and  I  had  engagements  that  called  us  to 
town  before  the  party  broke  up,  he  proposed  that  we  should  post 
home  together,  to  which  I  very  gladly  agreed.  The  uninter- 
rupted conversation  by  this  means  enjoyed  with  him  was  de- 
lightful, and  highly  as  I  had  previously  thought  of  him,  raised 
him  still  higher  in  my  estimation.  He  spoke  of  many  of  our 
mutual  friends  and  acquaintances  with  equal  judgment  and  good 
feeling,  and  whenever  he  touched  on  art,  I  felt  that  I  was  listening 
to  a  rare  and  an  original  minded  man. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Wilkie,  having  made  himself  a 
great  name,  could  pass  through  life  without  detraction,  and  he 
was  accused  of  bowing  rather  too  low  to  rank.  He  certainly 
had  a  sufficient  respect  for  the  aristocracy,  among  whom  he  had 
found  many  sincere  and  liberal  friends  ;  but  I  never  heard  of  his 
really  degrading  himself  by  servility;  and  I  know*  that,  where  his 
art  was  concerned,  he  would  not  give  up  a  point  that  he  thought 
of  consequence  in  deference  to  the  opinions  or  wishes  of  people 
of  title.  When  he  painted  "  George  IV.  entering  Holyrood 
House,"  he  had  a  good  deal  of  difficulty  respecting  matters  of 
costume  with  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  whose  fine  face  and  figure  are 
conspicuous  in  that  picture.  The  duke,  among  other  things,  pro- 
tested strongly  against  the  round  Highland  shield,  because  he  had 
not  carried  one  on  the  occasion ;  but  Wilkie,  who  wanted  its  form 
in  the  composition,  persisted  in  retaining  it.  So  when  he  was  en- 
gaged on  one  of  his  last  pictures,  —  "  The  Queen's  First  Council," 
—  he  told  me  that  Mr.  Croker  made  so  many  objections<  to  this 
and  that  in  the  composition,  "  that,"  said  Wilkie,  "  though  I  don't 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


WILKIE'S  LETTERS. 


119 


like  to  have  words  with  any  man,  I  was  really  obliged  to  have 
words  with  Mm"  Mr.  Croker,  it  is  true,  did  not  belong  to  the 
aristocracy,  but  he  had  so  much  influence  in  high  circles,  and 
particularly  in  circles  in  which  Wilkie  has  always  stood  well,  that 
to  oppose  him  in  opinion  was  quite  as  bold  as  to  oppose  any  no- 
bleman, or  even  bolder. 

The  different  estimates  which  Constable  and  Wilkie  formed  of 
the  value  of  public  opinion,  arose  naturally  from  the  treatment 
each  met  with  from  the  public  ;  —  Wilkie  being,  from  the  com- 
mencement of  his  career,  as  popular  as  Constable  was  the  reverse, 
it  was  natural  that  the  one  should  think  more  favourably  of  pub- 
lic opinion  than  the  other.  Still  I  fear  Constable  was  the  nearer 
to  a  right  judgment  in  this  matter.  Wilkie,  in  one  of  his  pub- 
lished letters,  says,  "  The  applause  of  the  exquisite  few,  is  better 
than  that  of  the  ignorant  many.  But  I  like  to  reverse  received 
maxims ;  give  me  the  many  who  have  admired  in  different  ages 
Raphael  and  Claude."  But  have  the  many,  in  any  age,  admired 
Raphael  and  Claude  ?  I  certainly  believe  not.  Their  reputa- 
tions are  established,  and  everybody,  therefore,  speaks  alike  con- 
cerning them,  as  all  Englishmen  do  of  Shakespeare.  But  can  we 
suppose  that  the  public,  without  their  guide  books  or  other  direc- 
tions, would  ever  find  out  that  the  Cartoons  are,  beyond  all  com- 
parison, the  most  valuable  works  of  art  at  Hampton  Court,  — 
or  that  they  would  go  at  once  to  the  St.  Ursula  of  Claude  in  the 
National  Gallery,  as  to  the  finest  picture  there  of  its  class,  with- 
out being  told  that  it  is  ?  I  am  as  sure  they  would  not,  as  I  am 
sure  that  when  John  Kemble  was  playing  Hamlet  or  Brutus, 
those  personations  were  not  felt  by  the  public  to  be  above  his 
Rolla  —  I  mean  the  characters  themselves  —  for,  could  his  audi- 
ence have  been  made  to  believe  "  Pizarro  "  to  be  the  work  of 
Shakespeare,  they  would  have  received  it  with  all  the  reverence 
due  to  his  name.  In  the  diary  of  Cooke,  the  actor,  is  the  fol- 
lowing :  "  The  general  veneration  for  Shakespeare  is  a  nominal 
one  ;  his  faults  are,  by  the  million,  esteemed,  and  his  beauties 
little  understood." 

All  that  can  be  said  is,  that  genius  in  some  of  its  forms  is 
more  understood  by  the  public  than  in  some  others;  that  Ra- 


120 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  VIII. 


phael's  wq,rks  are  addressed  to  a  larger  class  than  Michael 
Angelo's  ;  and  that  Shakespeare  is  more  read  than  Milton. 

Wilkie's  works  were  popular  from  the  first,  because  the  public 
could  understand  his  subjects,  and  natural  expression  is  always 
responded  to.  But  the  beauty  of  his  composition,  the  truth  of 
his  effects,  the  taste  of  his  execution,  were  no  more  felt  by  the 
multitude  than  such  qualities  are  felt  in  any  class  of  painting,  by 
any  but  those  whose  perceptions  of  art  are  cultivated.  There 
can  be  no  stronger  proof  of  this  than  the  fact  that  the  companion 
prints,  designed  by  Burnet,  to  one  or  two  of  Wilkie's  subjects, 
were  just  as  popular  as  his  ;  indeed,  the  engraving  from  Wilkie's 
picture  of  the  Chelsea  pensioner  reading  to  his  companions  the 
news  from  Waterloo,  was  less  liked,  as  I  was  told  by  the  pub- 
lishers, and  had  a  less  extensive  sale  than  its  companion  the 
Greenwich  pensioners.  An  artist  must  belong  to  the  multitude 
to  please  the  multitude. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


The  Wellington  Statue — Westmacott,  the  Sculptor  —  A  Sea-Captain's  Stories 
—  Etty,  the  Academician  —  Sir  Robert  Peel  —  Sir  Martin  Shee  —  Visit  to 
Paris  —  President  Eastlake  —  The  Great  Exhibition. 

"  Office  of  Woods,  &c,  October,  1846. 
"  Lord  Morpeth  presents  his  compliments  to  Mr.  Les- 
lie, and  would  feel  extremely  obliged  to  him  if  he  would  be  good 
enough  to  give  him  the  benefit  of  his  judgment  upon  the  appear- 
ance and  effect  of  the  Statue  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in  its 
present  position  upon  the  Triumphal  Arch  on  Constitution  Hill. 

"  Lord  Morpeth  feels  that  the  distinction  implied  in  Mr.  Les- 
lie's being  a  member  of  the  Royal  Academy  must  be  his  warrant 
for  the  trouble  which  he  thus  ventures  to  give. 
"  Charles  R.  Leslie,  Esq.,  &c.  &c." 

When  the  Wellington  statue  was  placed,  upon  trial,  on  the 
arch  opposite  Apsley  House,  and  the  general  opinion,  as  far  as 
it  could  be  ascertained  by  the  Press,  was  strongly  manifested 
against  its  remaining  there,  Lord  Morpeth  (now  Earl  of  Carlisle), 
who  was  at  that  time  the  Chief  Commissioner  of  the  Woods  and 
Forests,  wrote  letters  to  all  the  Academicians,  before  any  part  of 
the  scaffolding  was  removed,  requesting  to  have  their  opinions  on 
the  matter.  The  question  asked  of  us  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  merits  or  demerits  of  Mr.  Wyatt's  work,  but  related  merely 
to  its  situation  ;  and,  with  but  one  or  two  exceptions,  we  all 
agreed  in  recommending  its  removal.  In  my  reply  to  Lord  Mor- 
peth, after  remarking  that  I  thought  that  place  not  only  injurious 
to  the  effect  of  the  statue  itself,  but  to  all  the  architectural  objects 
about  it,  I  added :  "  There  is  another  reason  entirely  distinct  from 
these,  and  one  that  appears  to  me  a  sufficient  ground  of  itself  for 
the  removal  of  the  statue.    It  seems  to  me  to  be  an  act  of  great 


122 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IX. 


injustice  to  any  artist  who  has  executed  an  approved  public  work 
to  allow  any  alteration  to  be  made  in  his  design,  or  any  feature 
to  be  added  to  it,  unless  with  his  concurrence  ;  and  I  understand 
that  very  strong  objections  from  the  gentleman  who  designed  the 
arch  have  not  prevented  the  statue  with  its  pedestal  from  being 
placed  on  his  work." 

Some  of  the  members  of  the  Academy  evaded  a  distinct  reply 
to  Lord  Morpeth,  by  stating  that  they  could  not  judge  fairly  of 
its  appearance  in  consequence  of  the  scaffolding  that  so  closely 
surrounded  it.  The  scaffolding  was  then  partially  removed,  and 
his  Lordship  addressed  a  second  letter  to  each.  In  that  which  I 
received  I  was  asked  whether  I  now  saw  any  reason  to  alter  my 
opinion.  I  replied  that  I  did  not ;  and,  I  believe,  that  in  no  in- 
stance was  any  objection  that  had  previously  been  felt  to  placing 
the  statue  on  the  arch  done  away  by  the  removal  of  the  scaffold- 
ing. There,  however,  it  remains  —  to  the  disgrace  of  the  age. 
A  Frenchman,  on  seeing  it,  said,  "  France  is  now  avenged  for  the 
Battle  of  Waterloo." 

The  gigantic  bronze  cast  in  Hyde  Park  is  an  equal  disgrace  to 
the  taste  of  the  nation.  Will  it  be  believed  by  posterity  that 
Flaxman  was  living  when  Westmacott  was  employed  to  waste  the 
brass  of  the  cannon  captured  by  the  Duke  on  a  cast  from  an  an- 
tique figure  that  could  not,  in  any  way,  be  made  to  allude  to  any 
event  in  the  Duke's  history  ?  The  action  of  the  figure  is  that  of 
retreat.  And  then  the  bad  taste  of  casting  the  figure  without  the 
horse,  and  of  putting  a  shield  on  the  upraised  arm,  when  the 
action  of  the  hand  proves  that  that  arm  could  not  have  held  a 
shield ! 

In  the  year  1844  or  '45,  Mr.  Smirk  died.  I  visited  him  not 
long  before  his  death.  He  was  upwards  of  ninety,  and  in  perfect 
possession  of  all  his  faculties ;  indeed,  he  might  pass  for  a  man 
under  eighty.  Even  then  he  amused  himself  with  painting,  *and, 
though  he  did  not  show  his  last  productions,  I  was  told  they  dis- 
played no  signs  of  imbecility.  He  talked  most  agreeably,  and 
told  me  he  was  old  enough  to  have  known  a  man  who,  in  his 
youth,  had  known  William  Vandervelde  when  he  was  in  England, 
and  this  man  told  him  that  Vandervelde  used  to  go  to  Hampstead 
Heath  to  study  skies. 


CHAP.  IX.] 


A  SEA-CAPTAIN'S  STOEIES. 


123 


One  very  agreeable  result  of  our  visit  to  America,  in  1833, 
was  its  making  us  acquainted  with  Captain  Morgan,  whose  friend- 
ship has  been  among  our  greatest  enjoyments.  I  have  known 
very  few  men  so  constantly  agreeable,  for  his  intelligence  and 
sense  are  equal  to  his  cheerfulness,  and  that  is  unceasing.  He 
may  not  be  always  so  happy  as  he  appears,  for  no  man  can  be, 
but  he  seems  to  consider  it  a  duty  to  be  always  cheerful. 

Our  delightful  friend  had  a  good  story  d  propos  to  everything 
that  happened.  As  a  specimen,  I  will  put  clown  one  of  his  amus- 
ing inventions. 

Single  ladies  often  cross  the  water  under  the  especial  care  of 
the  captain  of  the  ship,  and  if  a  love  affair  occurs  among  the  pas- 
sengers, the  captain  is  usually  the  confidante  of  one  or  both  par- 
ties. A  very  fascinating  young  lady  was  placed  under  Morgan's 
care,  and  three  young  gentlemen  fell  desperately  in  love  with  her. 
They  were  all  equally  agreeable,  and  the  young  lady  was  puzzled 
which  to  encourage.  She  asked  the  captain's  advice.  "  Come 
on  deck,"  he  said,  "  the  first  day  when  it  is  perfectly  calm  —  the 
gentlemen  will,  of  course,  all  be  near  you.  I  will  have  a  boat 
quietly  lowered  down  ;  then  do  you  jump  overboard  and  see 
which  of  the  gentlemen  will  be  the  first  to  jump  after  you.  I  will 
take  care  of  you." 

A  calm  day  soon  came,  the  captain's  suggestion  was  followed, 
and  two  of  the  lovers  jumped  after  the  lady  at  the  same  instant. 
But  between  these  two  the  lady  could  not  decide,  so  exactly  equal 
had  been  their  devotion.  She  again  consulted  the  captain. 
"  Take  the  man  that  didn't  jump  ;  —  he's  the  most  sensible  fellow, 
and  will  make  the  best  husband." 

Morgan  had  often  noticed,  in  our  walks  together,  that  no 
shepherd's  dog  we  ever  met  had  a  tail.  I  had  told  him  they 
were  born  without  tails,  and  that  Bewick  was  my  authority.  Still 
he  would  not  believe  it ;  and  meeting  a  shepherd,  and  having  laid 
a  wager  on  the  result  of  his  answer,  Morgan  put  the  question 
thus  :  "  At  what  age  do  you  cut  these  dogs'  tails  ?  "  "  About 
eight  or  nine  months."  I  submitted.  But  "  No,"  said  Morgan, 
"  you  give  up  too  soon ;  much  depends  on  how  a  question  is  put. 
That  man  possibly  knows  nothing  of  the  matter,  but  he  would 
not  appear  ignorant.    His  answer,  therefore,  does  not  prove  that 


124 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IX. 


you  are  wrong.  If  I  had  asked  him  if  the  dogs  were  born 
without  tails,  perhaps  he  would  have  said  yes." 

When  at  sea  with  Captain  Morgan,  I  said :  "  In  such  a  ship  as 
this,  and  with  such  a  captain  as  you,  there  seems  to  me  to  be  no 
risk  but  from  fire,  and  that,  at  sea,  must  be  fearful."  * 

"  And  it  is  at  sea  only,"  he  said,  "  that  I  never  fear  fire.  As 
soon  as  I  land,  and  find  myself  in  a  hotel,  I  can't  sleep  for  a  night 
or  two,  for  fear  of  being  burned.  "We  are  very  strict  about  lights 
in  the  ship,  and,  though  the  rules  may  be  broken,  there  are 
always  people  awake  in  every  part  of  the  vessel.  If  some  of 
the  steerage  passengers  will  smoke,  contrary  to  orders,  there  are 
timid  ones  who  lie  awake  to  watch  them.  No ;  you  are  safer  at 
sea  than  anywhere  else." 

June  9th,  1849.  —  To-day  I  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  the 
principal  works  of  my  old  friend  and  fellow-student,  William 
Etty,  collected  in  the  great  room  of  the  Society  of  Arts,  in  the 
Adelphi. 

Etty  was  in  the  room,  and  on  my  saying  I  was  delighted  to  see 
him  so  surrounded,  he  said,  "by  my  children."  I  might  have 
farther  congratulated  him  on  having  so  large  and  fine  a  family  of 
daughters.  There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  to  these  daughters, 
and  to  the  unreserved  manner  in  which  their  charms  are  dis- 
played, much  of  his  popularity  may  be  attributed.  Still  there  is 
often  far  more  that  is  objectionable  indicated  in  a  single  female 
face  by  Greuze,  where  the  figure  is  entirely  draped,  than  in  all 
the  nudities  of  Etty,  whose  mind  was  anything  but  a  gross  one. 
Not  that  his  choice  of  subject,  in  many  instances,  is  in  any  degree 
more  defensible  than  that  of  Titian,  of  Correggio,  or  of  Rubens. 

But  the  excuses  that  may  be  offered  for  those  great  painters, 
when  treading  on  forbidden  ground,  —  namely,  that  they  elevated 
their  subjects,  instead  of  allowing  their  subjects  to  debase  their 
art,  —  may,  in  a  great  degree,  be  advanced  for  Etty  ;  though  in 
many  respects  his  taste  is  much  below  theirs,  excepting  always  in 
his  colour,  which  is  sufficiently  fine  in  its  own  way  to  place  him 
beside  them.  And  yet  he  commenced  his  practice  in  a  school 
unpropitious  to  colour,  —  that  of  Lawrence. 

*  This  was  before  the  days  of  steamboats.  Now  the  great  risk  is  from  colli- 
sions, which  never  happened  then. 


CHAP.  IX.] 


ETTY,  THE  ACADEMICIAN. 


125 


The  impression  made  on  me  by  this  exhibition,  and  which, 
from  all  that  I  heard  in  the  room,  was  the  general  impression  on 
my  brother  painters,  was  that  the  pictures  that  had  pleased 
formerly,  now  pleased  still  more,  and  those  we  had  least  liked 
gained  on  ns. 

Up  to  the  time  at  which  Etty  was  elected  an  associate  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  he  had  attended  the  Life-School  with  more 
regularity  than  any  other  student.  It  was  supposed  that,  on  be- 
coming a  full  member,  he  would  discontinue  this  habit,  and  some 
of  the  old  Academicians  thought  he  ought  to  give  it  up.  I  told 
him  what  I  had  heard  on  the  subject,  and  he  replied,  "  I  do  not 
mean  to  leave  off  studying  in  the  Life- Academy.  It  fills  up  a 
couple  of  hours  in  the  evening  that  I  should  find  myself  at  a  loss 
to  employ  otherwise.  I  am  very  fond  of  it,  nor  do  I  think  it 
beneath  the  dignity  of  any  rank  to  which  my  brethren  may  think 
fit  to  raise  me.  I  hope  I  shall  never  disgrace  the  Academy  by 
my  conduct ;  but  if  my  continuing  to  paint  in  the  Life-School  is 
considered  wrong,  let  them  not  make  me  an  Academician,  for  I 
will  not  give  it  up." 

Nor  did  he  discontinue  the  practice  until  compelled  to  do  so  by 
the  state  of  his  health,  no  doubt  impaired  by  so  regularly  breath- 
ing the  heated  atmosphere  of  our  ill-ventilated  school-room. 

As  a  member  of  the  Academy,  his  conduct  was  invariably 
marked  by  the  most  unremitting  and  disinterested  zeal  for  its 
welfare  and  honour,  which  he  always  considered  identical  with 
the  general  wellbeing  of  British  art. 

At  our  meetings  he  never  spoke  without  a  great  effort,  yet  he 
was  never  silent  on  any  question  in  which  he  thought  he  could 
serve  the  Academy.  The  first  speech  he  made  at  a  general 
meeting  was  to  propose  a  very  useful  measure,  which  he  carried  ; 
but  he  was  so  nervous  that  he  could  scarcely  articulate,  and  it  was 
painful  to  witness  how  much  the  effort  cost  him.  He  was  warmly 
thanked  by  the  President. 

There  was  a  simplicity  and  sincerity  in  the  manner  of  Etty 
that  attached  his  friends  firmly  to  him,  and  I  never  heard  that  he 
had  an  enemy.  In  speaking  of  his  own  life  he  compares  it  to  a 
long  sunshiny  holiday ;  and,  indeed,  we  need  but  look  at  his  pro- 
ductions, to  feel  sure  that  with  him  industry  has  never  been 


126 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  IX. 


labour.  And  yet  I  remember  him  at  a  time  previous  to  the 
existence  of  any  work  of  his  hand  now  in  the  Adelphi,  when  he 
was  looked  on  by  some  of  his  fellow-students  as  a  worthy  but  dull 
plodding  person,  who  would  never  distinguish  himself.  I  recollect 
his  making  a  pasticcio  at  the  British  Institution,  from  the  Paul 
Veronese,  "  The  Communion  of  St.  Nicholas,"  now  in  the 
National  Gallery,  which  he  turned  into  an  "  Adoration  of  the 
Magi,"  on  which  it  was  remarked  that  "  it  was  very  plain  he  was 
not  one  of  the  Magi." 

He  died  in  the  November  that  followed  his  exhibition. 

In  this  year  occurred  the  sad  accident  that  terminated  the  life 
of  Sir  Robert  Peel.  Within  my  recollection  no  death  in  England, 
with  the  exception  of  that  of  the  Princess  Charlotte,  had  occa- 
sioned such  general  sorrow  as  this  unexpected  event.  The  cases, 
however,  were  widely  different.  The  real  character  of  the  young 
princess  could  only  be  imperfectly  understood.  But  she  was 
looked  to  as  the  future  sovereign,  and  being  taken  from  the  world 
with  her  child  at  the  time  of  its  birth,  her  death  could  not  but 
excite  an  unusual  degree  of  feeling  throughout  the  country.  Her 
short  life,  however,  from  the  privacy  in  which  it  had  passed,  had 
as  yet  offered  little  more  than  promise. 

On  the  contrary,  the  great  talents  of  Peel  had  long  been  ad- 
mired by  his  friends  and  admitted  by  his  opponents,  but  his  politi- 
cal changes  had  subjected  him  to  severe  censure  ;  and  though  his 
conduct  and  motives  were  beginning  to  be  more  justly  appreciated 
than  they  had  been,  it  seemed  that  his  real  worth  was  far  from 
being  fully  felt  till,  at  a  time  of  life  when  his  services  might  fairly 
have  been  counted  on  for  years  to  come,  his  country  was  suddenly 
deprived  of  them. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  there  is  no  portrait  that  does 
him  justice,  for  he  had  a  fine  head.  Lawrence's  half-length  is  the 
best ;  but  in  that  the  dress  challenges  equal  attention  with  the 
face.  The  late  statues,  busts,  and  pictures  of  him  are  miserable 
things  ;  indeed,  his  face,  like  his  conduct,  has  been  subject  to  more 
misrepresentation  than  has  been  the  case  with  most  public  men. 
Lawrence,  by  the  emphasis  which  he  laid  on  the  tie  of  his  cravat, 
the  velvet  waistcoat,  and  the  glittering  watch-guard,  made  a  dandy 
of  him.    Now,  though  there  were  some  peculiarities  in  his  man- 


CHAP.  IX.] 


SIR  MARTIN  SHEE. 


127 


n er  of  dressing,  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  so  far  from  dandyism,  that 
George  the  Fourth  (no  incompetent  judge)  remarked  that  his 
clothes  never  fitted  him.  The  truth  I  believe  to  be,  that  the 
King,  though  glad  to  avail  himself  of  Peel's  great  talents,  looked 
on  him  as  a  plebeian,  and  therefore  deficient  in  that  taste,  in  small 
as  well  as  in  great  things,  which  is  supposed  by  some  to  be  the 
birthright  only  of  Royal  or  noble  blood. 

Sidney  Smith  related  a  pleasant  invention  illustrative  of  this, — 
which  represented  Peel,  when  in  the  ministry,  and  on  a  visit  at 
the  Brighton  Pavilion,  as  called  out  of  bed  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  to  attend  his  Majesty  in  what  —  his  dinner  having  disagreed 
with  him  in  a  very  alarming  manner  —  the  King  supposed  to  be 
his  last  moments.  Peel  was  much  affected,  and  the  King,  after  a 
few  words,  which  he  could  scarcely  utter,  said,  "  Go,  my  dear 
Peel,  —  God  bless  you  !  I  shall  never  see  you  again  : "  and,  as 
Peel  turned  to  leave  the  room,  he  added  faintly,  "  Who  made 
that  dressing-gown,  my  dear  Peel  ?  It  sits  very  badly  behind. 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  fellow  !   Never  employ  that  tailor  again." 

Not  long  after  the  death  of  this  admirable  man,  died  one  whose 
conduct,  in  a  much  smaller,  yet  not  unimportant  sphere,  was 
marked  by  the  same  disinterested  zeal  for  the  interests  committed 
to  him  that  at  all  times  distinguished  the  great  statesman.  On 
his  own  account,  the  death  of  Sir  Martin  Shee  could  not  be 
regretted,  as  it  was  the  release,  in  old  age,  and  from  years  of 
suffering,  of  a  faithful  steward  of  all  of  which  he  had  the  care. 
His  devotion  to  the  welfare  of  the  Academy  was  never  more 
conspicuous  than  when  he  was  examined  by  a  committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  headed  by  Mr.  Ewart,  before  which  were 
summoned  all  the  enemies  of  the  Academy,  some  of  whom  no 
doubt  from  conscientious  motives,  and  others  perhaps  from  a  mere 
wish  to  pull  down  a  body  which  had  not  admitted  them  among  its 
members,  suggested  the  most  impracticable  and  senseless  changes. 
I  regret  that  I  do  not  possess  a  copy  of  the  minutes  of  evidence 
before  this  notable  committee.  But  the  manner  in  which  Sir 
Martin  there  repelled  every  unjust  accusation  against  the  Acade- 
my,—  answered,  in  detail,  every  objection  brought  forward  against 
its  constitution,  —  and  exposed  the  absurdity  of  the  proposed  plans 
for  its  amendment,  does  equal  honour  to  his  courage  and  his  judg- 


128 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  IX. 


ment.  And  he  was  well  supported  by  the  secretary  and  keeper, 
Howard  and  Hilton  ;  who,  though  they  could  not  vie  with  him  in 
eloquence,  went  fully  along  with  him  in  zeal  for  the  cause  they 
were  called  on  to  defend. 

One  word  more  about  Sir  Martin  Shee.  At  the  first  Academy 
dinner,  at  which  he  took  the  chair  as  President,  Lord  Holland 
and  Lord  Grey  sat  next  each  other.  After  Shee's  first  address 
to  the  company,  Lord  Holland  said  to  his  neighbour,  "  I  never 
heard  a  better  speech."  "  And  I,"  said  Lord  Grey,  "  never  heard 
so  good  a  one." 

In  August,  1850,  my  wife  and  I,  with  our  daughter  Mary, 
visited  Oxford  and  Blenheim,  with  a  party  of  friends,  among 
whom  were  Mr.  Doyle  (H.  B.),  and  his  son  Richard,  the  ad- 
mirable artist  of  "  Pipps's  Diary  "  and  "  Brown,  Jones,  and  Rob- 
inson." 

While  looking  at  the  collection  of  pictures,  not  remarkable  for 
their  excellence,  belonging  to  Christ  Church  College,  a  gentleman 
in  a  gown  and  cap,  accompanied  by  two  ladies,  passed  through  the 
gallery.  "  That  is  Dr.  Pusey,"  whispered  our  guide.  "  He  has 
gone  up  into  the  library :  you  can  go  up."  This,  however,  we 
did  not  choose  to  do,  immediately ;  but,  after  looking  at  all  the 
pictures,  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding  something  good,  we  ascended 
to  the  library,  where  the  Doctor  was  writing  at  a  window  in  the 
centre  of  the  room.  "  He  will  turn  round  directly,  and  then  you 
will  see  his  face,"  said  our  guide.  This  happened  accordingly ; 
and  when  the  doctor  left  the  room,  we  were  shown  his  autograph, 
in  the  book  in  which  volumes  borrowed  are  entered.  It  seemed, 
indeed,  as  if  we  had  come  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Oxford,  as  the  resi- 
dence of  Dr.  Pusey  ;  for  another  of  the  guides  asked  if  we  wished 
to  see  the  house  in  which  he  lived,  and  was  astonished  to  find  we 
did  not  care  to  go  out  of  our  way  for  it. 

Towards  the  end  of  September  in  this  year,  I  was  in  Paris  for 
a  week  with  my  daughter  Mary.  The  best  part  of  the  Louvre 
being  closed,  in  consequence  of  alterations  and  repairs  (for  the 
French,  whatever  form  of  Government  may  prevail,  do  not  neg- 
lect the  arts,)  I  spent  more  time  than  I  had  done  when  last  in 
Paris  in  the  gardens  and  streets,  and  was  more  than  ever  struck 
with  the  architectural  beauty  of  Paris.    How  generally  dingy, 


CHAP.  IX.] 


VISIT  TO  PARIS. 


129 


low,  and  tasteless  do  the  houses  in  London  appear  on  a  return 
from  Paris !  How  heavy  and  cumbrous  where  ornament  is  at- 
tempted, either  on  house  or  shop  fronts  !  And  how  disagreeable 
to  the  eye  is  the  dirty  drab  that  so  much  prevails  in  London,  and 
which,  under  the  name  of  stone-colour,  so  soon  degenerates,  by 
the  aid  of  the  smoke,  into  the  colour  of  mud !  In  Paris  you  see 
pure  white  or  grey ;  and  where  tints  are  used,  which  is  always 
sparingly,  pale  reds,  blues,  yellows,  or  greens ;  but  I  never  ob- 
served drabs. 

On  our  return  to  England  we  spent  a  week  at  Sandgate,  at  the 
house  of  my  old  friend  James  Foster.  While  there  I  saw,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  a  lunar  rainbow.  Looking  towards 
Folkestone,  the  light  of  the  rising  moon  was  visible,  though  her 
orb  was  hidden  from  us  by  the  cliffs  ;  and  on  turning  in  the  op- 
posite direction  the  bow  appeared  partly  over  the  sea.  The  arch 
was  nearly  perfect,  and,  as  the  moon  had  but  just  risen,  almost  a 
semicircle  ;  and  there  seemed  a  very  faint  appearance  of  an  out- 
ward arch.  I  remarked,  as  we  often  see  it  in  the  solar  bow,  that 
the  mist  on  which  it  appeared  was  of  a  uniformly  darker  shade 
outside  of  the  arch.  The  prismatic  colours  were  not  perceptible 
to  my  eye,  but  it  appeared  of  a  soft  pale  light,  nearly  white.  It 
seemed  the  ghost  of  a  magnificent  double  bow  which  I  had  seen 
in  the  morning,  not  very  far  from  the  same  place  in  the  heavens. 

On  the  4th  of  November,  this  year,  Eastlake  was  elected 
President  of  the  Academy.  He  had  long  been  considered  by 
most  of  the  members  as  pre-eminently  qualified  for  this  high 
office  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  was  well  known  to  most  of  us 
that  he  did  not  desire  it.  Sir  Martin  Shee  died  in  August ;  and 
the  reason  why  so  long  an  interval  was  allowed  to  pass  before  the 
election  of  a  President,  was  that  many  members  were  out  of 
town,  and  it  was  desirable  that  the  meeting  for  the  election  should 
be  as  full  as  possible.  The  vacancy  occurred  at  a  time  of  the 
year  when  the  Academy  was  least  occupied  with  business  that  re- 
quired a  chairman,  and  it  was  proposed  by  Eastlake  himself  that 
the  choice  should  be  deferred  till  we  assembled  in  November  to 
elect  associates,  when  it  was  likely  most  of  the  academicians 
would  be  present.  There  were  many  discussions  among  the 
members,  who,  like  myself,  were  anxious  for  Eastlake's  election. 
9 


130 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  IX. 


It  was  thought  by  some,  that  it  would  be  best  to  ascertain  before- 
hand whether  he  would  accept  the  presidency  in  case  of  a  majori- 
ty in  his  favour ;  but  others,  and  I  with  them,  feared  that  this 
might  draw  from  him  a  refusal,  to  which  he  might  feel  bound  to 
adhere,  even  if  circumstances  should  afterwards  occur  to  induce 
him  to  change  his  mind.  Edwin  Landseer  was  in  Scotland  in 
the  autumn,  and  at  Balmoral,  where  he  heard  the  Queen  and 
Prince  Albert  express  a  hope  that  the  choice  of  the  Academy 
would  fall  on  Eastlake.  As  Landseer  knew  that  these  wishes 
would  have  great  weight  with  him,  he  sent  me  a  note,  written  to 
him  by  Colonel  Phipps,  stating  how  highly  agreeable  it  would  be 
to  the  Queen  and  the  Prince  that  Eastlake  should  be  placed  at 
the  head  of  the  Academy.  Landseer  authorised  me  to  make 
whatever  use  I  thought  best  of  this  note ;  and  I  sent  it  to  East- 
lake  a  short  time  before  the  election,  begging  him  not  to  reply 
to  me  unless  he  could  reply  as  he  must  well  know  was  de- 
sired by  most  of  the  members  of  the  Academy.  Until  he  saw 
Colonel  Phipps's  note,  I  have  no  doubt  he  had  determined  to  de- 
cline the  chair.  There  were,  of  course,  some  persons  dissatisfied 
with  his  election,  as  is  always  the  case  in  every  such  event ;  and 
they  and  their  friends  affected  to  lament  that  the  members  of  the 
Academy  had  been  influenced  in  their  choice  by  the  expressed 
wishes  of  royalty.  But  the  note  I  sent  to  Eastlake  was  seen  only 
by.  him.  No  other  member  of  the  Academy,  excepting  Landseer, 
his  brother,  and  myself,  knew  of  it ;  and  we  had  determined  to 
vote  for  him,  whenever  the  vacancy  should  occur,  long  before  we 
knew  how  acceptable  the  choice  would  be  to  the  Queen.  Im- 
mediately on  his  election,  the  sum  of  300/.  per  annum,  which  had 
for  some  years  been  given  to  Sir  Martin  Shee,  was  voted  to  the 
President,  until  the  bequest  of  Sir  Francis  Chantrey  of  that  sum 
annually  to  the  office  should  come  into  effect.  This  was  unpala- 
table to  some  of  the  academicians,  who  considered  it  undignified 
that  the  President  of  the  Royal  Academy  should  be  paid  for  his 
services  ;  a  view,  I  confess,  entirely  opposite  to  that  which  I  take 
of  the  matter.  In  the  first  place,  300/.  is  no  payment  for  the 
time  and  money  the  President  is  now  called  on  to  expend  in  the 
service  of  the  Academy ;  and,  in  the  second,  it  seems  to  me  that 
it  would  be  much  less  dignified  in  that  body,  to  allow  a  distin- 


CHAP.  IX.] 


THE  GREAT  EXHIBITION. 


131 


guislied  artist  to  make  the  great  sacrifices  he  must  make,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  institution,  wholly  without  compensation. 

The  rare  qualities  essential  to  the  President  of  such  a  body 
may  possibly  be  found  united  in  a  man  who  is  by  no  means  rich. 
Sir  Martin  Shee  undertook  what  he  could  not  afford;  and  the 
Academy,  very  properly,  during  the  last  years  of  his  life,  gave 
him  what  ought  to  have  been  given  him  at  first.  They  must 
have  strange  notions  of  dignity  who  would  call  this  conduct  un- 
dignified. 

On  the  evening  of  the  election,  before  we  proceeded  to  vote, 
I  gave  notice  that  I  should  propose  at  the  next  meeting  that  the 
sum  voted  annually  to  Sir  Martin  Shee  should  be  continued  to 
his  successor ;  and  when  the  time  came  this  was  agreed  to  with- 
out opposition.  Having  taken  an  active  part  in  these  matters,  I 
think  it  right  to  leave  some  record  of  the  facts. 

At  the  election,  the  votes  were  for  Eastlake,  26 ;  for  Edwin 
Landseer,  1 ;  for  Pickersgill,  1  ;  and  for  Jones,  2. 

The  month  of  May,  1851,  will  remain  memorable  on  account 
of  the  opening  of  the  Great  Exhibition  of  the  Industry  of  all 
Nations,  in  Hyde  Park  —  an  event,  the  success  of  which  has  so 
greatly  surpassed  expectation  and  falsified  prophecy. 

Soon  after  the  Exhibition  was  opened,  I  was  informed  that  I 
had  been  nominated  a  juryman  for  the  American  Commission.  I 
concluded,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the  jury  on  which  my  name 
was  placed  were  to  decide  on  the  merits  of  works  of  art ;  but 
when  I  took  my  seat  at  the  board,  I  found  myself  entirely 
among  strangers  —  ordinary -looking  men,  at  least,  such  at  the 
first  glance,  they  appeared  to  me.  I  soon  found,  however,  they 
were  discussing  matters  of  science;  and,  on  looking  round  the 
table  again,  their  looks  improved.  It  then  occurred  to  me  to  refer 
to  the  voluminous  catalogue,  which  I  had  found  of  little  use  in 
the  Exhibition,  and  in  the  last  page  of  it  I  discovered  my  own 
name  in  the  list  of  Jury,  Class  X,  of  which  Sir  David  Brewster 
was  chairman  ;  and  among  it  the  members  were  Sir  John  Her- 
schel,  Baron  Seguier,  Professor  Potter,  and  other  eminent  men ; 
and  I  found  also  by  my  catalogue,  that  I  was  to  decide,  with  these 
gentlemen,  on  the  merits  of  "  Philosophical,  Musical,  Horological, 
and  Surgical  Instruments." 


132 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  IX. 


I  sat  out  the  meeting,  determined  to  resign  a  situation  for 
which  I  was  unfit.  I  listened  to  discussions  on  matters  of  which 
I  was  wholly  ignorant,  and  came  away  with  the  impression  that 
the  gentlemen  round  the  table  were  remarkably  wise-looking 
men  —  so  true  it  is  that  the  character  is  rarely  seen  in  the  face 
at  the  first  acquaintance,  and  never  so  truly  seen  as  when  we 
know  it  beforehand.  The  maid-servant  of  the  Misses  Cotterell 
who  mistook  Dr.  Johnson  for  a  robber,  is  not  to  be  too  hastily 
censured. 

On  inquiring  of  the  Commissioners  why  I  had  been  nominated 
upon  such  a  jury,  I  was  told  it  was  because  they  could  think  of 
no  other  resident  in  London  connected  with  America  but  me ; 
and  that  I  might  be  of  use  by  drawing  the  attention  of  the  jury 
to  objects  which  in  the  enormous  collection  might  by  chance  es- 
cape their  notice.  It  was  earnestly  wished  that  I  should  continue 
to  serve,  and  I  therefore  did  so;  not  sorry  to  have  frequent 
opportunities  of  sitting  at  the  same  table  with  my  distinguished 
colleagues. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Turner  —  Turner  and  Ruskin  —  Turner's  Pictures  —  Sir  Charles  Eastlake  — 
Landseer  —  The  Engravers  of  England  —  Wilkie's  Prints  —  Engraving 
Auctioneers. 

On  the  19th  of  December  in  this  year  died  the  greatest  painter 

of  the  time,  by  some  thought  the  greatest  of  all  the  English 

painters.    By  many,  however,  and  perhaps  by  the  best  judges, 

Turner  will  be  placed  in  that  class 

"  whose  genius  is  such 
That  we  never  can  praise  it  or  blame  it  too  much." 

The  artists,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  had,  from  the  begin- 
ning of  his  career,  done  him  justice.  But  he  passed  through  life 
little  noticed  by  the  aristocracy  (Lord  Egremont  being,  as  he  had 
been  in  the  case  of  Flaxman,  the  principal  exception),  and  never 
by  Royalty.  Callcott  and  other  painters,  immeasurably  below 
him,  were  knighted ;  and,  whether  Turner  desired  such  a  dis- 
tinction or  not,  I  think  it  probable  he  was  hurt  by  its  not  having 
been  offered  to  him.  Probably,  also,  he  expected  to  fill  the  chair 
of  the  Academy,  on  the  death  of  Sir  Martin  Shee ;  but,  greatly 
as  his  genius  would  have  adorned  it,  on  almost  every  other  ac- 
count he  was  incapable  of  occupying  it  with  credit  to  himself  or 
to  the  institution,  for  he  was  a  confused  speaker,  and  wayward 
and  peculiar  in  many  of  his  opinions,  and  expected  a  degree  of 
deference  on  account  of  his  age  and  high  standing  as  a  painter, 
which  the  members  could  not  invariably  pay  him,  consistently 
with  the  interests  of  the  Academy  and  of  the  Arts. 

Having  said  that  he  received  but  little  notice  from  the  nobility, 
with  the  exception  of  much  patronage  from  Lord  Egremont,  I 
must  not  omit  to  mention  that  he  painted  one  of  his  largest  and 
grandest  pictures  for  Lord  Yarborough,  and  another,  as  fine,  for 


134 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  X. 


the  Marquis  of  Stafford.  Mr.  Rogers,  with  less  means  of  pat- 
ronage, was  always  his  great  admirer,  and  has  associated  his 
name  with  that  of  Turner  in  one  of  the  most  beautifully  illus- 
trated volumes  that  has  ever  appeared. 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  poet  was  equally  the  friend  and  ad- 
mirer of  Flaxman  and  Stothard,  while  the  titled  and  wealthy  of 
the  country  lost  for  themselves  the  honour  of  connecting  them- 
selves with  names  that  will  probably  outlive  their  own. 

Sir  George  Beaumont  was  a  sincere  friend  to  the  Arts,  but  in 
many  things  a  mistaken  one.  He  was  right  in  his  patronage  of 
Wilkie  and  of  Haydon,  but  he  ridiculed  Turner,  whom  he  en- 
deavoured to  talk  down.  He  did  the  same  with  respect  to  Stot- 
hard, and  though  personally  very  friendly  to  Constable,  he  never 
seems  to  have  had  much  perception  of  his  extraordinary  genius. 

In  the  year  1822,  Constable  thus  wrote :  "  The  art  will  go  out : 
there  will  be  no  genuine  painting  in  England  in  thirty  years." 
And  it  is  remarkable  that,  within  a  few  months  of  the  date  •  thus 
specified,  Turner  should  have  died,  almost  literally  fulfilling,  as 
some  of  his  admirers  may  think,  Constable's  prophecy. 

It  is  difficult  to  judge  of  the  condition  of  Art  in  our  own  time ; 
but  I  think  it  cannot  be  denied  that  painting  is  in  a  much  lower 
state  in  this  country  now  than  in  the  year  1822.  At  that  time 
Stothard,  Fuseli,  Wilkie,  Turner,  Lawrence,  Owen,  Jackson, 
Constable,  and  Etty  were  living,  James  Ward  was  in  the  full 
possession  of  his  great  powers,  as  were  also  most  among  the 
present  eminent  painters.  But  those  who  have  since  come  for- 
ward, however  they  may  hereafter  rank,  cannot,  I  think,  at  pres- 
ent be  considered  as  forming  anything  like  such  an  assemblage 
of  excellence,  as  the  English  school  could  boast  of  thirty  years 
ago. 

Turner  was  very  amusing  on  the  varnishing,  or  rather  the 
painting  days,  at  the  Academy.  Singular  as  were  his  habits,  for 
nobody  knew  where  or  how  he  lived,  his  nature  was  social,  and 
at  our  lunch  on  those  anniversaries,  he  was  the  life  of  the  table. 
The  Academy  has  relinquished,  very  justly,  a  privilege  for  its 
own  members  which  it  could  not  extend  to  all  exhibitors.  But  I 
believe,  had  the  varnishing  days  been  abolished  while  Turner 
lived,  it  would  almost  have  broken  his  heart.    When  such  a 


CHAP.  X.] 


TURNER. 


135 


measure  was  hinted  to  him,  he  said,  "  Then  you  will  do  away 
with  the  only  social  meetings  we  have,  the  only  occasions  on 
which  we  all  come  together  in  an  easy  unrestrained  manner. 
When  we  have  no  varnishing  days  we  shall  not  know  one 
another." 

In  1832,  when  Constable  exhibited  his  "  Opening  of  Waterloo 
Bridge,"  it  was  placed  in  the  school  of  painting  —  one  of  the 
small  rooms  at  Somerset  House.  A  sea-piece,  by  Turner,  was 
next  to  it  —  a  grey  picture,  beautiful  and  true,  but  with,  no 
positive  colour  in  any  part  of  it.  Constable's  "  Waterloo  "  seemed 
as  if  painted  with  liquid  gold  and  silver,  and  Turner  came  several 
times  into  the  room  while  he  was  heightening  with  vermilion  and 
lake  the  decorations  and  flags  of  the  city  barges.  Turner  stood 
behind  him,  looking  from  the  "  Waterloo "  to  his  own  picture, 
and  at  last  brought  his  palette  from  the  great  room  where  he  was 
touching  another  picture,  and  putting  a  round  daub  of  red  lead, 
somewhat  bigger  than  a  shilling,  on  his  grey  sea,  went  away 
without  saying  a  word.  The  intensity  of  the  red  lead,  made 
more  vivid  by  the  coolness  of  his  picture,  caused  even  the  ver- 
milion and  lake  of  Constable  to  look  weak.  I  came*  into  the 
room  just  as  Turner  left  it.  "  He  has  been  here,"  said  Con- 
stable, "  and  fired  a  gun."  On  the  opposite  wall  was  a  picture, 
by  Jones,  of  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego  in  the  furnace. 
"A  coal,"  said  Cooper,  "has  bounced  across  the  room  from 
Jones's  picture,  and  set  fire  to  Turner's  sea."  The  great  man 
did  not  come  again  into  the  room  for  a  day  and  a  half ;  and  then, 
in  the  last  moments  that  were  allowed  for  painting,  he  glazed  the 
scarlet  seal  he  had  put  on  his  picture,  and  shaped  it  into  a 
buoy. 

In  finishing  the  "  Waterloo  Bridge  "  Constable  used  the  palette 
knife  more  than  the  pencil.  He  found  it  the  only  instrument  by 
which  he  could  express,  as  he  wished,  the  sparkle  of  the  water. 

Parsimonious  as  were  Turner's  habits,  he  was  not  a  miser.  It 
was  often  remarked,  that  he  had  never  been  known  to  give  a 
dinner.  But  when  dining  with  a  large  party  at  Blackwall,  the 
bill,  a  heavy  one,  being  handed  to  Chantrey  (who  headed  the 
table),  he  threw  it  to  Turner  by  way  of  joke,  and  Turner  paid  it, 
and  would  not  allow  the  company  to  pay  their  share.    I  know, 


136 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  X. 


also,  that  he  refused  large  offers  for  his  "  Temeraire,"  because 
he  intended  to  leave  it  to  the  nation. 

Like  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  he  avoided  expressing  his  opinions 
of  living  artists.  I  never  heard  him  praise  any  living  painter 
but  Stothard ;  neither  did  I  ever  hear  him  disparage  any  living 
painter,  nor  any  living  man. 

Mr.  Ruskin,  in  a  lecture  he  delivered  at  Edinburgh,  draws  a 
touching  picture  of  the  neglect  and  loneliness  in  which  Turner 
died.*  This  picture,  however,  must  lose  much  of  its  intended 
effect  when  it  is  known  that  such  seclusion  was  Turner's  own 
fault.  No  death-bed  could  be  more  surrounded  by  attentive 
friends  than  his  might  have  been,  had  he  chosen  to  let  his  friends 
know  where  he  lived.  He  had  constantly  dinner  invitations,  which 
he  seldom  even  answered,  but  appeared  at  the  table  of  the  inviter 
or  not  as  it  suited  him.  His  letters  were  addressed  to  him  at  his 
house  in  Queen  Ann  Street ;  but  the  writers  never  knew  where 
he  really  resided.  It  may  well  be  supposed  that  a  man  so  rich, 
advanced  in  life,  and,  as  was  thought,  without  near  relations, 
should  be  much  courted.  He  had  for  many  years  quoted  in  the 
Academy*  catalogues  a  MS.  poem,  "The  Fallacies  of  Hope;" 
and  I  believe  that  among  his  papers  such  a  MS.,  though  not 
in  poetic  form,  was  found  by  some  of  his  friends  to  be  his 
will. 

I  am  very  far  from  supposing  that  Mr.  Ruskin  belonged  to  this 
class  of  Turner's  friends ;  for  I  have  not  a  doubt  that  his  enthu- 
siastic admiration  of  his  art  and  mind  was  genuine  ;  and  expressed 
with  no  other  feeling  of  self-interest  than  the  pride  of  being  known 
to  be  capable  of  appreciating  him. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  Turner  never  would  sit  for  a 
portrait,  excepting  when  he  was  a  young  man,  and  then  only  for 
a  profile  drawing  by  Dance.  This  is,  therefore,  the  only  satis- 
factory likeness  of  him  extant. 

It  happened,  of  course,  as  with  every  eminent  man,  that  as 
soon  as  he  was  dead  the  shop-windows  exhibited  wretched  libels 

*  "  Cut  off,  in  great  part,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin,  "  from  all  society,  first  by 
labour,  and  last  by  sickness,  hunted  to  his  grave  by  the  malignity  of  small 
critics  and  the  jealousies  of  hopeless  rivalry,  he  died  in  the  house  of  a 
stranger." 


4CHAP.  X.] 


TURNER'S  PICTURES. 


137 


on  his  face  and  figure,  the  most  execrable  of  which  was  from  a 
sketch  by  Count  D'Orsay. 

Turner  was  short  and  stout,  and  he  had  a  sturdy  sailor-like 
walk.  There  was,  in  fact,  nothing  elegant  in  his  appearance,  full 
of  elegance  as  he  was  in  art ;  he  might  be  taken  for  the  captain 
of  a  river  steamboat  at  a  first  glance ;  but  a  second  would  find 
far  more  in  his  face  than  belongs  to  any  ordinary  mind.  There 
was  that  peculiar  keenness  of  expression  in  his  eye  that  is  only 
seen  in  men  of  constant  habits  of  observation.  His  voice  was 
deep  and  musical,  but  he  was  the  most  confused  and  tedious 
speaker  I  ever  heard.  In  careless  conversation  he  often  ex- 
pressed himself  happily,  and  he  was  very  playful:  at  a  dinner 
table  nobody  more  joyous.  He  was,  as  I  have  said,  a  social  man 
in  his  nature ;  and  it  is  probable  that  his  recluse  manner  of  living 
arose  very  much  from  the  strong  wish,  which  every  artist  must 
feel,  to  have  his  time  entirely  at  his  own  command. 

It  fell  to  my  lot  to  select  the  first  of  his  pictures  that  went  to 
America.  Mr.  James  Lenox,  of  New  York,  who  knew  his 
works  only  from  engravings,  wished  very  much  to  possess  one, 
and  wrote  to  me  to  that  effect.  I  replied,  that  his  rooms  were 
full  of  unsold  works,  and  I  had  no  doubt  he  would  part  with  one. 
Mr.  Lenox  expressed  his  willingness  to  give  500/.,  and  left  the 
choice  to  me.  I  called  on  Turner,  and  asked  if  he  would  let  a 
picture  go  to  America.  "  No ;  they  won't  come  up  to  the  scratch." 
I  knew  what  he  meant,  for  another  American  had  offered  him  a 
low  price  for  the  "  Temeraire."  I  told  him  a  friend  of  mine 
would  give  500/.  for  anything  he  would  part  with.  His  counte- 
nance brightened,  and  he  said  at  once,  "  He  may  have  that,  or 
that,  or  that,"  —  pointing  to  three  not  small  pictures.  I  chose  a 
sunset  view  of  Staffa,  which  I  had  admired  more  than  most  of  his 
works  from  the  time  when  it  was  first  exhibited.  It  was  in  an 
old  frame,  but  Turner  would  have  a  very  handsome  new  one 
made  for  it.  When  it  reached  New  York,  Mr.  Lenox  was  out  of 
town ;  and  we  were  in  suspense  some  time  about  its  reception. 
About  a  fortnight  after  its  arrival  he  returned  to  New  York,  but 
only  for  an  hour,  and  wrote  to  me,  after  a  first  hasty  glance,  to 
express  his  great  disappointment.  He  said  he  could  almost  fancy 
the  picture  had  sustained  some  damage  on  the  voyage,  it  ap- 


138 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  X. 


peared  to  him  so  indistinct  throughout.  Still  he  did  not  doubt 
its  being  very  fine,  and  he  hoped  to  see  its  merits  on  farther 
acquaintance ;  but  for  the  present  he  could  not  write  to  Mr.  Tur- 
ner, as  he  could  only  state  his  present  impression. 

Unfortunately,  I  met  Turner,  at  the  Academy,  a  night  or  two 
after  I  received  this  letter,  and  he  asked  if  I  had  heard  from  Mr. 
Lenox.    I  was  obliged  to  say  yes. 

"  Well,  and  how  does  he  like  the  picture  ?  " 

"  He  thinks  it  irfdistinct." 

"  You  should  tell  him,"  he  replied,  "  that  indistinctness  is  my 
fault." 

In  the  meantime,  I  had  answered  Mr.  Lenox's  letter,  pointing 
out,  as  well  as  I  could,  the  merits  of  the  picture,  and  concluded 
by  saying,  "  If,  on  a  second  view,  it  gains  in  your  estimation,  it 
will  assuredly  gain  more  and  more  every  time  you  look  at  it." 
Mr.  Lenox,  in  reply,  said,  "  You  have  exactly  described  what  has 
taken  place,  I  now  admire  the  picture  greatly,  and  I  have  brought 
one  or  two  of  my  friends  to  see  it  as  I  do,  but  it  will  never  be  a 
favourite  with  the  multitude.  I  can  now  write  to  Mr.  Turner, 
and  tell  him  conscientiously  how  much  I  am  delighted  with  it." 

Mr.  Lenox  soon  afterwards  came  to  London,  and  bought  an- 
other picture  of  Turner's,  at  a  sale,  and,  I  think,  another  of  him- 
self, and  would  have  bought  "  The  Temeraire,"  but  Turner  had 
then  determined  not  to  sell  it. 

It  was  reported  that  Turner  had  declared  his  intention  of  being 
buried  in  his  "  Carthage,"  the  picture  now  in  the  National  Gal- 
lery. I  was  told  that  he  said  to  Chantrey,  "  I  have  appointed 
you  one  of  my  executors.  Will  you  promise  to  see  me  rolled  up 
in  it  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  Chantrey ;  "  and  I  promise  you  also  that  as 
soon  as  you  are  buried  I  will  see  you  taken  up  and  unrolled." 

This  was  very  like  Chantrey,  and  the  story  was  so  generally 
believed,  that  when  Turner  died,  and  Dean  Milman  heard  he  was 
to  be  buried  in  St.  Paul's,  he  said,  "  I  will  not  read  the  service 
over  him  if  he  is  wrapped  up  in  that  picture." 

I  have  said  Turner  often  expressed  himself  happily.  I  re- 
member that  when  it  was  proposed  that  the  new  Houses  of  Par- 
liament were  to  be  decorated  with  pictures,  he  said,  "  Painting 
can  never  show  her  nose  in  company  with  architecture  but  to 
have  it  snubbed." 


CHAP.  X.] 


SIR  CHARLES  EASTLAKE. 


139 


How  true  this  is !  No  architect  ever  seems  capable  of  under- 
standing in  what  light,  and  at  what  distance,  painting  can  be 
seen ;  and  it  is  a  great  pity  that  first-rate  art,  either  sculpture  or 
painting,  should  ever  be  employed  in  the  decoration  of  architec- 
ture. The  Elgin  Marbles  were  never  seen  till  now,  when  they 
are  in  ruins.  The  coarsest  art  would  have  as  well  ornamented 
the  Parthenon,  and  Lucca  Giordano  might  have  been  better  em- 
ployed in  decorating  the  Sistine  Chapel  and  the  chambers  of  the 
Vatican  than  Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael.* 

An  attempt  has  lately  been  made  in  Italy  to  rescue  some  of 
the  great  works  of  art  from  the  decay  and  injury  to  which  they 
are  exposed  in  churches,  but  without  success.  I  never  saw  an 
altar-piece  in  a  light  in  which  it  could  be  fairly  seen.  There  are 
always  windows  on  each  side,  to  say  nothing  of  the  picture  being 
too  high,  and  the  lower  part  generally  hid  by  the  decorations  of 
the  altar. 

In  the  year  1852,  being,  for  the  fourth  time,  one  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  the  Academy,  I  proposed  that  the  exclusion  of  engravers 
from  the  highest  academic  honours  should  be  reconsidered.  I 
was  induced  to  do  so  on  account  of  a  vacancy  occurring  in  the 
list  of  Associate  engravers,  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Landseer,  and  I 
hoped  that  an  alteration  of  the  laws  of  the  Academy  might  be 
effected  before  that  vacancy  should  be  filled  up,  so  as  to  induce 
*  engravers  of  first-rate  excellence  to  become  candidates. 

On  a  former  occasion,  when  such  an  alteration  was  proposed,  I 
was  among  its  opponents.  But  I  had  since  reconsidered  the 
subject  in  all  its  relations  to  the  arts  and  to  the  Academy,  and, 
having  changed  my  opinion,  was  now  anxious  to  repair  my  share 
of  what  I  considered  the  perseverance  of  the  Academy  in  an 
error  committed  at  its  formation. 

I  was  farther  encouraged  to  take  up  this  matter  by  what  fell 
from  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  at  a  council,  upon  the  vacancy  among 
the  Associate  engravers  being  mentioned.  He  said  :  "  I  suppose 
the  question  respecting  the  admission  of  engravers  to  the  highest 
honours  of  the  Academy  will,  some  time  or  other,  be  again  brought 
forward."    I  had  before  known  that  he  was  in  favour  of  such  a 

*  I  should  think  few  lovers  of  art  would  agree  with  Mr.  Leslie  in  this 
opinion.  —  Ed. 


140  MEMOIE  OF  C.  E.  LESLIE.  [chap.  x. 

change,  and  the  hint  thus  thrown  out  determined  me  to  lose  no 
time  in  bringing  the  matter  forward. 

Sir  Robert  Strange  attributed  the  exclusion  of  engravers  from 
among  the  Academicians  to  the  determination  to  keep  him  out  of 
the  Academy,  he  not  being  acceptable  to  the  King  on  account  of 
his  Jacobite  principles.  But  I  cannot  believe  that  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  and  other  eminent  artists  were  not  sincere  in  their  opin- 
ion that  engraving  should  receive  an  inferior  distinction  to  that 
conferred  on  Painting,  Sculpture,  and  Architecture,  because  it  is 
an  art  not  requiring  inventive  powers. 

The  Academicians  were  not,  however,  unanimous  in  this 
opinion,  for  West  spoke  strongly  in  favour  of  placing  engraving 
on  the  same  footing  with  the  other  arts,  and  Bartolozzi,  though 
he  did  paint  a  picture  to  entitle  him  to  admission,  owed  his  elec- 
tion, in  reality,  only  to  his  eminence  as  an  engraver.  The  Society, 
by  this  proceeding,  practically  acknowledged  what  their  constitu- 
tion denied.  Whether  or  not  this  was  done  to  appease  the  anger 
of  the  engravers,  many  of  whom  were  members  of  the  society 
out  of  which  the  Academy  sprung,  the  inconsistency  of  the  act 
was  very  unfortunate.  The  engravers  were  only  the  more  irri- 
tated, and  in  the  second  year  of  its  existence  the  Academy  made 
a  second  mistake  in  an  alteration  of  its  constitution,  by  which  six 
engravers  were  eligible  to  the  rank  of  Associate  only. 

That  this  law  was  a  mistake  has  been  abundantly  proved  from* 
its  wording.  For  some  time  no  candidate  for  the  intended  honour 
could  be  induced  to  come  forward  ;  and  the  first  that  offered  him- 
self was  an  artist  eminent  only  as  a  seal-engraver  to  the  King. 
He  was  followed  by  an  obscure  foreigner,  and  eighteen  years 
elapsed  before  the  entire  number  could  be  filled  up,  nor  did 
it  then  include  any  engraver  who  stood  at  the  head  of  his  pro- 
fession. 

In  1802  a  vacancy  occurred  among  the  Associate  engravers 
which  was  not  supplied  till  1806,  when  the  late  Mr.  Landseer 
became  a  candidate,  in  the  hope  of  influencing  the  Academicians 
to  change  the  law  relating  to  his  art.  The  same  motive  had  pre- 
viously induced  James  Heath  to  accept  the  diploma,  and  both  ex- 
erted themselves  to  promote  such  a  change. 

Mr.  Landseer  memorialised  the  Academy,  and  suggested  that 


p 

CHAP.  X.] 


THE  ENGRAVERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


141 


four  engravers  should  be  made  Academicians,  and  that  a  profes- 
sorship of  engraving  should  be  established. 

The  advocates  for  a  change  of  the  law  increased  as  years  rolled 
on,  and  among  these  Wilkie  may  be  mentioned  as  one  who  pos- 
sessed, more  than  any  other  painter,  a  practical  knowledge  of  the 
difficulties  and  requirements  of  the  art  of  engraving. 

The  opponents  to  a  change  in  the  constitution  of  the  Academy 
favourable  to  engraving,  have  always  laid  much  stress  on  the 
wisdom  of  such  men  among  its  founders  as  Reynolds  and  Cham- 
bers. But  these  eminent  men  might  —  could  they  have  lived  to 
the  present  day  —  see  cause  to  acknowledge  their  mistake,  and 
to  place  themselves  among  those  now  disposed  to  listen  to  the 
opinions  of  the  engravers.  The  Academy  had  reached  its  eighty- 
fourth  year,  and,  with  very  few  exceptions,  engravers  of  eminence 
had  not  accepted  the  place  it  offered  to  them,  while  the  list  of  dis- 
tinguished engravers  who  have  stood  aloof  from  it  is  a  large 
one. 

First  on  the  list  are  the  names  of  "Woollett,  Strange,  and 
Schiavonetti,  artists  of  unrivalled  excellence,  and  to  these  may  be 
added  the  names  of  others  who,  if  not  so  great,  have  yet  done 
much  honour  to  the  British  school.  Vivares,  Medland,  Charles 
Warren,  Raimbach,  Charles  Heath,  William  Finden,  Le  Keux, 
George  and  William  Cook,  line-engravers ;  Cardon,  Agar,  Scriven, 
Jones,  and  Caroline  Watson,  chalk-engravers ;  and  Earlom, 
M'Ardell,  Fisher,  and  Reynolds,  mezzotint-engravers. 

A  title  for  so  long  a  time  refused  by  the  leading  men  of  the 
profession  for  which  it  was  created  could  clearly  be  no  honour. 
If  the  Academy  was  not,  after  much  experience,  disposed  to 
confer  a  distinction  on  engraving,  which  those  who  practised  it 
best  would  accept,  it  seemed  to  me  and  others  that  it  would  be 
more  to  the  credit  of  the  Institution  to  discontinue  the  offer  of  a 
rank  to  engravers  that  was  generally  considered  by  them  as  an 
insult. 

The  great  battle  was  about  the  relative  dignity  of  the  art. 
Whatever  that  may  be,  I  cannot  look  at  the  best  works  of  the 
best  engravers  and  not  feel  that  they  are  the  productions  of 
genius.  If  the  Academy  could  be  filled  with  artists  like  Rey- 
nolds, Gainsborou  $h,  Wilson,  Chambers,  Banks,  and  Flaxman, 


142 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  X. 


there  would  unquestionably  be  no  room  even  for  the  best  of  en- 
gravers. Bat  it  is  most  unfortunate  for  the  Academy  that  such 
persons  as  Baker,  a  flower  painter;  Chamberlain,  a  portrait 
painter ;  Hayman,  a  historical  painter ;  Richards,  a  scene 
painter ;  Meyer,  an  enamel  painter ;  Yeo,  an  architect ;  and 
many  others  now  equally  forgotten,  were  Academicians,  when 
men  who  have  done  so  much  honour  and  service  to  the  Arts  as 
Strange,  Woollett,  and  Sharpe,  were  not  permitted  to  confer  the 
honour  of  their  names  upon  it. 

Nor  was  it  only  in  the  first  years  of  the  Institution  that  its 
ranks  were  swelled  by  mediocre  artists.  Down  to  the  present 
day  there  have  always  been  Academicians,  whose  diplomas  would 
have  been  more  worthily  bestowed  upon  first-rate  engravers. 

There  have  been  such  artists  as  Piranesi  and  Bewick,  engravers 
not  only  of  consummate  skill  in  the  use  of  their  tools,  but  posses- 
sing great  powers  of  invention  and  great  fertility  of  imagination. 
There  have  been  such  men,  and  there  may  be  again,  and  under 
its  original  constitution  the  Academy  had  no  place  for  them. 

When  the  proposed  alteration  was  in  the  course  of  discussion, 
I  said  I  considered  that  England  had  produced  the  best  engravers 
in  the  world,  and  the  Academy  had  treated  them  as  if  they  were 
the  worst.  Sir  Richard  Westmacott  attributed  the  interest  I  took 
in  their  cause  to  gratitude,  and  he  was  right.  But  the  gratitude 
I  feel  is  not  merely  towards  a  few  who  have  ably  engraved  some 
of  my  pictures,  but  to  the  art  itself.  For  I  believe  that  in  no 
country  have  the  other  arts  ever  owed  so  much  to  engraving  as 
in  England. 

The  greatest  patron  of  painters  that  has  appeared  in  this  coun- 
try, since  the  time  of  Charles  I.,  was  an  engraver,  who  acquired 
a  fortune  as  a  publisher,  which  he  spent  entirely  in  the  encourage- 
ment of  art.  It  would  take  a  long  time  to  enumerate  the  magnif- 
icent things  done  by  Boydell  during  upwards  of  half  a  century ; 
while  all  that  was  done  within  the  same  time  for  historic  or  poetic 
art  by  the  British  aristocracy,  may  be  stated  very  shortly  —  it 
was  next  to  nothing. 

Had  there  been  no  such  art  as  engraving,  there  would  have 
been  no  such  patronage  as  Boydell's,  which  gave  birth  to  some 
of  the  greatest  works  of  the  British  school ;  and  to  this  same  art 


CHAP.  X.] 


WILKIE'S  PRINTS. 


of  engraving  it  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say  we  owe  the  very  ex- 
istence of  Hogarth.  His  patrons  were  the  million.  The  great 
people  were  told  by  Walpole  that  he  was  no  painter ;  and  Wal- 
pole,  being  one  of  themselves,  they  believed  him.  But  for  engrav- 
ing, therefore,  Hogarth  must  have  confined  himself  to  portraits  on 
which  he  might  have  starved,  for  he  was  never  popular  as  a  por- 
trait painter.  But  when  the  prints  of  "  The  Harlot's  Progress  " 
appeared,  1200  copies  were  immediately  subscribed  for.  This 
was  the  beginning  of  the  patronage  produced  for  painting  by 
engraving.  Its  benefits  appeared  next  in  the  case  of  Stothard, 
who  lived  and  died  scarcely  employed  except  by  publishers,  to 
whom  we  owe  the  thousands  of  his  enchanting  conceptions  now 
so  eagerly  sought  by  collectors. 

Even  Wilkie  would  not  have  been  what  he  was  but  for  this  art. 
The  prices  he  received  for  his  finest  pictures,  at  the  time  when  he 
painted  but  one  a  year,  would  never  have  enabled  him  to  give 
them  their  admirable  finish,  but  for  the  remuneration  he  received 
from  his  prints.  It  is  remarkable  (as  illustrating  the  history  of 
patronage  in  England)  that  the  Directors  of  the  British  Institu- 
tion bought  his  "  Distraining  for  Rent,"  and  soon  after  put  it  in 
their  cellar,  where  it  remained  till  Baimbach  repurchased  it  for 
the  purpose  of  engraving  —  the  right  to  do  which  had  before 
been  refused  by  the  Directors.  The  great  excellence  of  this 
picture  had,  at  first,  induced  the  Directors  of  the  Institution  to 
buy  it  as  soon  as  it  was  seen  at  Somerset  House.  But  they  were 
afterwards  frightened  at  what  they  had  done,  on  its  being  sug- 
gested that  the  subject  was  a  satire  on  landlords,  and  the  picture 
was  placed  in  a  large  dark  lumber-room  under  the  gallery,  where 
the  students  were  allowed  to  wash  their  brushes.  I  saw  it  there ; 
and  told  Young  (the  keeper)  that  if  it  remained  long  in  so  dark  a 
place  it  would  turn  yellow.  He  accordingly  allowed  it  to  be  hung 
in  one  of  the  upper  rooms  during  the  intervals  between  the  ex- 
hibitions. Washington  Irving  saw  it  there.  I  was  present  at 
the  time,  and  I  remember  that  he  stood  for  some  minutes  before 
it  without  saying  a  word ;  and,  when  he  turned  round,  tears  were 
streaming  down  his  cheeks. 

Turner's  large  fortune  was  acquired  very  much  through  the 
means  of  engraving ;  nor  has,  what  I  cannot  but  call,  the  patron- 


144 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  x. 


age  of  this  art  been  extended  to  painting  only.  Flaxman,  neg- 
lected by  the  Court,  the  Government,  and  the  aristocracy,  was 
enabled  by  engravers  to  spread  all  over  the  world  those  exquisite 
conceptions  which  have  supplied  materials  to  less  inventive  sculp- 
tors and  painters  of  classical  subjects. 

Such  are  the  grounds  of  my  gratitude  to  the  art  of  engraving. 
I  was  told,  however,  that  if  painters  owe  much  to  this  art,  it  owes 
its  very  existence  to  them.  True ;  but  the  benefits  between  living 
painters  and  engravers  are  not  necessarily  mutual.  They  can  do 
without  us  much  better  than  we  can  do  without  them.  They  can, 
as  Strange  did,  employ  themselves  wholly,  and  with  great  advan- 
tage to  their  reputations,  on  the  works  of  the  old  masters. 

The  injustice  of  the  original  laws  of  the  Academy  towards 
engravers  was  very  remarkable.  While  painters,  sculptors,  and 
architects  were  elected  by  painters,  sculptors,  and  architects,  no 
engraver  could  be  present  at  the  election  of  a  member  of  his  own 
profession.  The  choice  was  made  by  artists  who  had  no  practical 
knowledge  of  the  engraver's  craft.  Thus,  while  the  Academy 
offered  to  a  profession  what  was  considered  no  honour  by  most 
who  belong  to  it,  the  gift,  to  such  as  were  willing  to  receive  it, 
carried  less  guarantee  of  merit  than  the  gift  of  any  other  distinc- 
tion in  the  Academy. 

Eastlake  was  of  opinion,  and  I  entirely  agreed  with  him,  that 
there  always  had  been,  and  always  would  be,  room  among  the 
forty  for  a  few  first-rate  engravers.  The  majority,  however, 
thought  otherwise,  and  it  was  otherwise  determined.  But  there 
was  one  thing  required  of  candidates  for  the  engravers'  associate- 
ships  to  which  I  was  strongly  opposed,  namely,  that  they  should 
exhibit  original  compositions,  or  drawings,  from  nature.  This 
part  of  the  law  appears  to  me  so  unreasonable,  and  so  much 
worse  than  useless,  that  I  cannot  but  believe  it  will,  sooner  or 
later,  be  rescinded. 


CHAPTER  XL 


John  Howard  Payne  —  Hay  don,  the  Painter  —  Haydon's  Journal  —  Haydon's 
character — The  Chalons  and  Cattermole — British,  French,  and  Ger- 
man Schools  —  Dessin's  Hotel  —  Peter  Powell —  Samuel  Rogers  —  Rogers's 
"  Table  Talk." 

The  "  Autobiography  of  Haydon  "  recalls  to  mind  my  first  ac- 
quaintance with  its  author,  then  young  and  full  of  promise,  in  his 
own  eyes  and  in  those  of  all  who  knew  him,  of  great  future 
eminence. 

But  here  I  must  digress  to  another  early  acquaintance,  John 
Howard  Payne,  whose  career  resembled  Haydon's  in  its  many 
years  of  the  extremest  misery  of  debt,  incurred  by  the  bad 
management  of  good  natural  talents. 

The  success  of  Master  Betty,  who,  for  a  time,  carried  the  pub- 
lic away  from  Kemble  and  Mrs.  Siddons,  excited  a  youth  in 
America,  like  Betty,  of  handsome  features  and  graceful  manners, 
and  with  a  charming  voice,  to  come  forward  as  an  American 
Young  Roscius.  Master  Payne,  in  a  very  short  time  realised  a 
small  fortune  by  his  personations  of  Borneo,  Hamlet,  Young 
Norval,  and  the  other  characters  in  which  Betty  had  attracted 
such  crowds  in  London.  I  saw  him  play  Romeo  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  was  perfectly  delighted.  Whether  he  equalled  Betty 
on  the  stage,  I  know  not ;  but  he  was  superior  to  him  off  the 
stage ;  for  while  yet  in  his  teens,  he  became  the  editor  of  a  news- 
paper or  magazine  —  I  forget  which  —  and  was  a  favourite  as- 
sociate of  the  foremost  literary  men  in  Boston,  New  York,  and 
Philadelphia. 

I  think  it  was  in  1813  that  Payne  came  to  England  to  try  his 
fate  on  the  London  Boards.  But  he  was  no  longer  a  boy ;  and 
as  Betty  lost  his  attractiveness  with  the  growth  of  his  beard,  so  it 

10 


146 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  XI. 


was  with  Howard  Payne.  He  played  two  or  three  nights  at 
Drury  Lane,  but  with  little  applause,  excepting  from  the  Ameri- 
can friends  who  mustered  to  support  him.  Mr.  West  was  in  a 
stage-box,  and  I  sat  by  his  side.  The  old  gentleman  had  not 
been  in  a  theatre  for  many  years.  He  expressed  himself  pleased 
with  Payne,  but  he  was  delighted  —  and  well  he  might  be  — 
with  Knight  (the  father  of  the  present  secretary  of  the  Acade- 
my), who  played  the  principal  character  in  the  farce. 

Though  Payne  failed  as  an  actor,  he  afterwards  acquired  fame 
as  an  author  by  his  tragedy  of  "  Brutus,"  in  which  Edmund 
Kean  thrilled  the  audience  by  his  inimitable  personation  of  the 
hero. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  England,  Payne,  as  had  happened  in 
America,  became  a  favourite  in  a  large  circle  of  young  men  of 
talent,  artists,  and  literary  aspirants.  Among  these  were  Hay- 
don  ;  Dr.  Croly  (now  Rector  of  St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook),  then 
a  poet,  and  without  a  living ;  Shiel,  the  Irish  orator,  who  died 
Master  of  the  Mint ;  Scott,  the  editor  of  the  "  Champion,"  who 
fell  in  a  duel  in  consequence  of  an  attack  upon  Lockhart ;  and 
Procter  (the  amiable  Barry  Cornwall).  I  remember  also  seeing 
at  Payne's  lodgings,  at  a  breakfast  which  he  gave  to  a  large 
party,  the  then  celebrated  Robert  Owen,  who  was  at  that  time 
filling  the  papers  with  his  schemes  for  re-modelling  society  on  a 
plan  that  was  to  transcend  Utopia.  I  remember  Payne  telling  me 
that  when  Wilberforce,  on  being  urged  to  bring  this  plan  before 
Parliament,  replied  that  it  was  too  late  in  the  session,  Owen  ex- 
claimed, "  What,  sir !  put  off  the  happiness  of  mankind  till 
another  session  of  Parliament ! " 

After  failing  as  an  actor,  Payne  tried  what  he  could  do  as  a 
manager,  and  undertook  the  direction  of  Sadler's  Wells  for  a 
season.  But  Grimaldi  was  the  only  attractive  person  in  his 
company,  and  the  manager  incurred  nightly  losses.  He  gave  his 
friends  very  amusing  accounts  of  his  difficulties  and  embarrass- 
ments ;  and  the  melancholy  though  often  laughable  incidents  he 
related  of  this  part  of  his  life  furnished  Washington  Irving  with 
much  of  the  theatrical  adventure  introduced  in  his  "  Buckthorne 
and  his  friends." 

It  was  through  Payne  that  I  became  acquainted  with  Haydon. 


CHAP.  XI.] 


HAYDON,  THE  PAINTER. 


147 


I  had  admired  the  power  displayed  in  Haydon's  "  Macbeth,"  and 
still  more  that  shown  in  his  "  Solomon."  When  I  first  saw  him 
he  was  engaged  on  his  "  Christ  entering  Jerusalem." 

Payne,  who  attributed  his  failure  on  the  boards  of  Drury  Lane 
to  everything  but  want  of  talent,  had  given  Haydon  a  long  ac- 
count of  the  way  in  which  he  had  been  thwarted  by  the  jealousy 
of  English  actors,  and  the  illiberality  of  the  English  press.  To 
all  this,  Haydon  very  characteristically  replied :  "  Sir,  I  regret 
from  my  soul  the  treatment  you  have  met  with ;  I  regret  it  as  an 
Englishman,  and  am  ashamed  of  my  country.  I  wish  it  were  in 
my  power  to  do  anything  that  could  make  you  the  slightest 
amends ;  but  the  only  way  in  which  I  can  show  my  sense  of  the 
injustice  you  have  suffered,  is  to  make  you  the  St.  John  in  my 
picture." 

I  was  captivated  with  Haydon's  art,  which  was  then  certainly 
at  its  best,  and  tried,  but  with  no  success,  to  imitate  the  richness 
of  his  colour  and  impasto.  Allston,  Morse,  and  I,  often  spent 
evenings  with  him,  and  very  pleasant  evenings  they  were.  At  a 
much  later  period  I  was  struck  with  his  resemblance  to  Charles 
Lamb's  "  Ralph  Bigod,  Esq.,"  that  noble  type  of  the  great  race 
of  men  —  "  the  men  who  borrow."  I  even  thought,  before  Lamb 
declared  Fenwick  to  be  the  prototype  of  Bigod,  that  Haydon  was 
the  man ;  and  I  am  not  sure  that  Lamb  did  not  think  of  him  as 
well  as  of  Fenwick  ;  —  all  the  traits  were  Haydon's.  "  Bigod 
had  an  undeniable  way  with  him.  He  had  a  cheerful,  open 
exterior,  a  quick,  jovial  eye,  a  bald  forehead,  just  touched 
with  grey  (cana  Jides).    He  anticipated  no  excuse,  and  found 

none  When  I  think  of  this  man,  —  his  fiery  glow 

of  heart,  his  swell  of  feeling,  —  how  magnificent,  how  ideal  he 
was  ;  how  great  at  the  midnight  hour  !  And  when  I  compare 
with  him  the  companions  with  whom  I  have  associated  since,  I 
grudge  the  saving  of  a  few  idle  ducats,  and  think  that  I  am  fallen 
into  the  society  of  lenders  and  little  men." 

Haydon  never  asked  me  to  lend  him  money  ;  perhaps  he  knew 
I  had  none  to  lend  ;  for,  indeed,  being  a  bad  economist,  I  was 
often  obliged  to  borrow  myself :  and  I  may  here  say,  that  had  it 
not  been  for  very  kind  friends,  belonging  to  what  Lamb  calls  the 
little  class  of  men,  I  must  have  been  often  as  badly  off  as 


148 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XI. 


Haydon  was  at  the  worst.  The  only  thing  he  ever  borrowed  of 
me  was  a  picture  —  a  copy  from  a  Paul  Veronese.  He  kept  it 
long,  but  it  came  safely  back  to  me. 

His  "  Christ  entering  Jerusalem  "  did  not  equal  his  "  Solo- 
mon," as  a  whole ;  but  there  were  very  fine  things  in  it.  The 
head  of  Jairus,  and  the  head  and  figure  of  his  daughter,  were 
inimitably  painted;  and  there  was  a  noble,  matronly  Jewess, 
kneeling  and  spreading  drapery,  in  the  foreground.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  there  was  an  almost  regular  decrease  of  excellence  in 
his  pictures,  from  the  "  Solomon  "  to  the  end  of  his  life,  parallel 
with  his  increasing  troubles.  The  "  Raising  of  Lazarus "  was 
inferior  to  the  "  Entry  into  Jerusalem,"  though,  had  the  con- 
ception and  execution,  throughout,  been  equal  to  the  conception 
and  execution  of  the  figure  of  Lazarus,  it  would  have  been  one 
of  the  finest  pictures  in  the  world.  The  introduction  of  the  father 
and  mother  of  Lazarus,  persons  who  have  no  place  in  the  history, 
was  a  great  mistake. 

Haydon's  journal,  like  his  pictures,  displays  great  powers  of 
mind,  and  in  it,  as  in  his  pictures,  passages  of  truth  and  of  false- 
hood often  stand  side  by  side.  According  to  the  feeling  that  is 
uppermost  he  does  the  amplest  justice,  or  the  grossest  injustice, 
to  those  of  whom  he  writes.  This  is  most  often  the  case  in  what 
he.  says  of  Wilkie,  because  of  Wilkie  he  speaks  most  often. 

In  a  very  touching  anecdote,  he  gives  a  true  character  of  West. 
While  he  was  at  work  on  the  "  Solomon,"  he  says,  "  West  called, 
and  was  affected  to  tears  at  the  mother.  He  said  there  were 
points  in  the  picture  equal  to  anything  in  the  art.  But,"  said 
this  good  old  man,  "  get  into  better  air  ;  you  will  never  recover 
with  this  eternal  anxiety  before  you.  Have  you  any  resources  ?  " 
"  They  are  exhausted."  "  D'ye  want  money  ?  "  "  Indeed  I  do." 
"  So  do  I,"  said  he ;  "  they  have  stopped  my  income  from  the 
King,  but  Fauntleroy  is  arranging  an  advance,  and  if  I  succeed, 
my  young  friend,  you  shall  hear.  Don't  be  cast  down  ;  such  a 
work  must  not  be  forgotten  !  "  In  the  course  of  the  same  day 
West  sent  him  a  cheque  for  £15. 

But  Haydon  repeats  the  story  of  the  withdrawal  of  a  little 
picture  by  Wilkie  from  the  exhibition,  which  Allan  Cunningham 
tells  in  a  manner  wholly  distorted  by  his  prejudices  against  the 


CHAP.  XI.] 


HAYDON'S  JOURNAL. 


149 


Academy.  Haydon  acknowledges  that  lie  advised  Wilkie  not  to 
send  the  picture,  because  it  was  unworthy  of  his  reputation,  and 
then  accuses  West  of  intrigue,  because  he  recommended  Wilkie 
to  withdraw  it.  He  speaks  of  West's  "pretended"  regard  for 
Wilkie.  It  was  a  real  regard,  as  I  well  know,  founded  on  re- 
spect for  him  as  a  man,  and  the  highest  admiration  of  his  genius. 
I  have  more  than  once  heard  West  say,  "  There  is  but  one 
Wilkie." 

In  Haydon's  account  also  of  his  interview  with  Flaxman,  he 
gives  the  grossest  caricature  of  that  great  artist. 

In  some  published  remarks  on  Haydon's  journal,  I  have  said 
that  "  all  the  charges "  contained  in  it,  "  unfavourable  to  the 
Royal  Academy,  are  unfounded."  But  a  reperusal  of  it  shows 
me  that  in  one  instance  I  was  mistaken.  Haydon  says,  "  in 
1810,"  he  "  first  put  down  his  name  for  Associate,  Arnold  was 
elected." 

The  fact,  as  thus  stated,  is  inaccurate  ;  but  not  so  the  implied 
charge  of  injustice.  It  was  1809,  the  year  in  which  he  exhibited 
his  "  Dentatus,"  that  he  first  put  down  his  name.  In  that  year 
there  were  two  vacancies  among  the  Associates.  The  first  was 
very  justly  given  to  Wilkie,  but  the  second  very  unjustly  to 
Dawe.  This  was  certainly  disgraceful  to  the  Academy,  and  I 
doubt  whether  a  single  man  who  voted  for  Dawe  did  not  after- 
wards repent  it.  Haydon's  "  Dentatus,"  though  much  inferior  to 
his  "  Solomon,"  should  assuredly  have  made  him  an  Associate. 
His  indignation,  however,  on  account  of  its  place  in  the  Exhibi- 
tion, was  what  no  man  with  as  much  genius,  and  less  of  vanity, 
would  have  felt.  It  had  a  central  situation  in  a  room  where 
pictures  by  Reynolds  and  Gainsborough  had  often  been  placed, 
and  where  one  of  Lawrence's  finest  portraits  was  hung,  when  he 
was  President  of  the  Academy.  Haydon  says  the  ante-room 
had  no  decent  light  for  a  picture,  which  is  untrue,  for  the  light  in 
which  the  "  Dentatus  "  was  hung  was  as  good  as  possible  ;  nor 
can  I  acquit  him  of  wilful  misrepresentation,  when  he  says  the 
ante-room  had  "  no  window,"  for  this,  though  in  one  sense  true,  is 
substantially  false,  the  ante-room  being  lighted  by  a  sky-light,  the 
best  of  all  windows  for  pictures. 

In  judging  of  Haydon's  character,  it  is  fair  to  consider  what  he 


150 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XI. 


did  not,  as  well  as  what  he  did ;  and  it  is  to  his  credit  that, 
through  all  the  extremes  of  mental  agony  he  suffered,  and  with 
his  sanguine  and  ardent  temperament,  he  never  gamed,  or  sought 
relief  from  his  sufferings  by  drinking.  Indeed,  whatever  were 
his  faults,  he  seems  to  have  had  no  low  vices  ;  and  in  his  family 
he  was  as  good  a  husband  and  father  as  a  man  always  over  head 
and  ears  in  debt  could  be  ;  no  doubt  a  much  better  husband  and 
father  than  many  a  man  who  never  knew  any  but  easy  or  afflu- 
ent circumstances. 

Lord  John  Russell's  "  Life  of  Moore  "  reminds  me  of  the  op- 
portunities I  have  had  of  meeting  another  eminent  man.  I  saw 
Moore  most  often  at  Holland  House,  and  at  the  House  of  Mr. 
Rogers  ;  but  at  neither  was  there  a  piano,  and  it  was  only  two  or 
three  times  at  Mr.  Murray's  that  I  had  opportunities  of  hearing 
him  sing.  I  shall  never  forget  a  small  dinner  party,  in  Albe- 
marle Street,  of  which  Moore  and  James  Smith  (the  chief  author 
of  the  "  Rejected  Addresses  ")  were  the  life  and  soul.  They  sat 
opposite  each  other  at  the  table,  and  kept  up  a  constant  inter- 
change of  anecdote  and  pleasantry. 

After  dinner  they  sung  their  own  songs  alternately,  Moore  ac- 
companying Smith  on  the  piano,  though  he  knew  nothing  of  the 
airs.  But  Smith  hummed  them  over  in  an  under  tone,  previous 
to  singing,  and  that  was  sufficient  to  produce  a  beautiful  accom- 
paniment from  Moore's  dextrous  little  fingers.  One  of  Smith's 
songs  was  made  up  of  men's  actions  contradicting  their  names, 
e.  g. : 

"  Mr.  Metcalf  ran  off  upon  meeting  a  cow, 
With  pale  Mr.  Turnbull  behind  him. " 

and  — 

"  Over  poor  Mr.  Lightfoot,  confined  by  the  gout, 
Mr.  Heaviside  danced  a  bolero.  " 

So  much  has  been  said  of  the  taste  and  feeling  with  which 
Moore  sung  his  own  songs,  that  I  will  say  nothing  but  that  too 
much  could  not  be  said  of  it. 

When  his  "  Life  of  Byron  "  first  appeared,  it  was  in  two  large 
quarto  volumes,  and  the  first  came  out  alone.  Murray  told  me 
that  a  lady  said  to  him,  "  I  hear  it  is  dull ;  "  and  he  told  her  the 


CHAP.  XI.] 


THE  CHALONS  AND  CATTERMOLE. 


151 


scandal  was  all  to  be  in  the  second  volume.  "  And  is  the  second 
volume  to  be  had  separately  ? "  asked  the  lady. 

This  last  touch  was  probably  given  to  the  story  by  Murray 
himself. 

In  1855  Alfred  Chalon  exhibited  his  own  works  with  those 
of  Ins  brother  John,  at  the  rooms  of  the  Society  of  Arts  in  the 
Adelphi. 

Death  had  separated  the  brothers,  whose  affection  for  each  oth- 
er was  the  strongest  I  ever  witnessed  between  relations.  Indeed, 
the  love  and  harmony  in  that  family,  of  which  Alfred  is  now  the 
sole  survivor,  was  such  as,  were  it  universal,  would  make  this 
world  a  paradise. 

It  was  to  me  a  proof  —  if  I  had  wanted  one  —  of  the  non-ap- 
preciation of  colour  at  the  present  time,  that  the  exhibition  of 
Alfred  and  John  Chalon's  pictures  failed  to  attract  notice. 

Except  at  the  private  view,  I  doubt,  whether  any  artist  enter- 
ed the  rooms,  though  there  is  not  one  living  who  might  not  have 
learned  much  by  studying  the  pictures  there.  I  went,  as  to  a 
school,  and  indeed  I  always  felt  myself  in  a  school  in  the  house 
of  the  Chalons.  To  my  mind,  Alfred  Chalon  has  long  been  the 
first  among  painters  in  water-colours  ;  and  yet,  though  his  beauti- 
ful drawing  of  the  Queen  was  in  the  great  Paris  Exhibition,  this 
year,  the  prize  for  water-colour  art  was  given  to  Cattermole  ! 
But  it  could  scarcely  be  expected  that  an  artist,  so  little  under- 
stood by  his  countrymen,  should  meet  with  more  justice  from  the 
jurors  of  a  nation  where  no  taste  or  feeling  for  the  beauties  of 
colour  at  present  exists.  Injustice  was  done  by  this  decision  not 
only  to  Chalon  but  to  John  Lewis,  whose  admirable  drawing  of 
"  the  Hareem  "  was  wholly  unnoticed. 

In  November,  this  year,  I  visited  Paris  in  company  with  my 
wife,  who  had  never  before  been  in  France.  We  staid  about  ten 
days,  and  though  the  weather  was  cold,  enjoyed  the  many  enjoy- 
able things  there  greatly. 

The  enormous  collection  of  pictures  and  sculpture  confirmed 
what  I  had  before  thought,  that  these  arts  have  gradually  declin- 
ed in  England  and  advanced  on  the  Continent,  since  the  peace  of 
1815. 

When  it  was  proposed  to  adorn  the  houses  of  Parliament  with 


152 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XI. 


frescoes,  Haydon  thus  wrote :  "  English  art  never  stood  higher 
than  at  the  end  of  the  war.  Foreigners  were  astonished  at  our 
condition,  and  well  might  be.  The  reason  was,  blockading  kept 
the  rich  from  running  over  the  Continent ;  our  energies  were 
compressed  and  devoted  to  ourselves,  and  we  flourished  accord- 
ingly We  escaped  the  contagion  of  David's  brickdust 

which  infected  the  Continent,  and  the  frescoes  are  but  a  branch 
of  the  same  Upas  root  grafted  upon  Albert  Durer's  hardness, 
Cimabue's  gothicism,  and  the  gilt  ground  inanity  of  the  middle 
ages.  All  the  vast  comprehensiveness  of  Velasquez,  Rubens  and 
Titian,  are  now  to  be  set  aside,  and  we  are  not  to  go  on  where 
they  left  off,  but  to  begin  where  their  predecessors  began." 

It  is  certain  that  before  the  Continent  was  thrown  open  to  our 
artists,  and  our  patrons  of  art,  there  was  an  immense  difference 
in  favour  of  the  British  school,  between  its  productions  and  those 
of  any  other  school ;  a  difference  not  only  in  degree,  but  in  kind ; 
and  that,  now,  though  some  remains  of  colour  are  still  left  to  us, 
as  well  as  some  feeling  for  what  is  natural  in  expression,  yet  this 
great  difference  no  longer  exists. 

It  is  as  if  the  British  school  had  possessed  the  wine,  and  the 
other  schools  the  water  only  of  art,  and  that  the  peace,  by  min- 
gling these,  had  strengthened  the  art  of  the  Continent  exactly  in 
the  degree  in  which  it  had  diluted  art  with  us.  This  amalgama- 
tion  may  be  one  cause  of  the  change ;  but  the  rise  and  decline  of 
art,  like  the  rise  and  decline  of  nations,  is  never  the  effect  of  a 
single  cause. 

Combinations  of  circumstances,  which  can  never  be  thoroughly 
understood,  bring  these  things  about. 

I  am  quite  aware  that,  to  many,  my  premises  resting  on  the 
great  superiority  of  the  British  school  will  appear  doubtful. 
Those  who  take  an  opposite  view  to  mine  will  contrast  the  cor- 
rectness of  drawing  of  the  French  and  German  artists  with  our 
inaccuracies  in  form,  and  will  insist  much  also  on  the  cultivation 
in  those  schools  of  high  art  —  namely,  historical  and  religious  art. 
With  respect  to  the  first  point,  power  in  drawing,  I  heard  an  emi- 
nent English  painter  praise  the  works  of  Horace  Vernet,  while 
he  admitted,  with  me,  that  his  colouring  was  disagreeable,  and 
that  he  had  no  feeling  whatever  for  that  breadth  of  chiaro-scuro, 


CHAP.  XI.] 


DESSIN'S  HOTEL. 


153 


which  has  always  been  a  distinction  of  every  great  painter.  But 
he  praised,  and  very  justly,  his  facility  of  composition. 

Now  it  is  clear  that  the  deficiencies  he  admitted  in  the  art  of 
this  very  clever  Frenchman,  must  deprive  him  of  any  claim  to 
the  name  of  a  painter,  because  as  the  admission  leaves  him  only 
the  power  of  expressing  forms  and  combining  them  well,  it  leaves 
him  only  so  much  of  art  as  may  be  given  by  outline  compositions 
like  those  of  Flaxman,  and  much  better  given  in  that  manner ;  an 
entire  absence  of  colour,  and  chiaro-scuro  being  very  much  better 
than  the  presence  of  these  qualities  without  harmony  or  breath. 

As  to  the  cultivation  of  historic  and  religious  art  by  the  Conti- 
nental painters,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  call  it  the  cultivation  of 
High  art  when  they  produce  pictures  that  will  bear  even  a  dis- 
tant comparison  with  the  works  of  the  great  old  masters ;  while 
we  may  say,  with  pride,  that  the  works  of — I  will  not  go  back 
to  Hogarth,  Reynolds,  Wilson,  and  Gainsborough,  for  they  are 
now  numbered  with  the  old  and  great  masters,  —  but  the  works 
of  men  whom  many  of  us  living  have  had  the  happiness  of 
knowing  personally,  as  Fuseli,  Stothard,  Turner,  Constable,  Wil- 
kie,  Etty,  and  the  best  of  Haydon's,  will  hang  with  credit  among 
those  of  the  greatest  painters  that  ever  lived. 

Mrs.  Leslie  and  I  slept  at  Calais  on  our  way  home,  and  passed 
the  greater  part  of  a  day  there.  We  were  at  Dessin's  hotel,  and 
after  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  Paris  there  was  much  in  this  quiet 
old  house  to  charm  us,  independently  of  all  associations  —  its  old- 
fashioned  simple  elegance  -r-  so  unlike  the  style  of  the  Parisian 
hotels  —  the  beautiful  garden  through  which  we  had  to  pass  to 
and  from  our  bed-room,  all  looking  as  if  no  change  had  been 
made  in  the  house  or  its  decorations  for  a  century.  It  seemed, 
indeed,  exactly  as  it  must  have  been  when  Sterne  wrote  of  it. 
In  the  very  room  where  the  monk  first  addressed  him,  we  read 
the  stoiy,  and  the  poor  Franciscan's  "  courteous  figure  seemed  to 
re-enter."  We  went  into  the  coachyard  where  Yorick  apologised 
for  his  harshness  to  Father  Lorenzo,  and  we  felt  that,  though 
Sterne  might  have  been,  as  Mr.  Thackeray  calls  him,  "  an  old 
scamp,"  he  has  left,  in  that  inimitable  story,  much  atonement  to 
the  world  for  his  vices,  and  for  those  passages  in  his  writings 
which  it  is  a  pity  he  had  not  blotted. 


154 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  XI. 


The  present  master  of  the  hotel  is  a  grandson  of  the  Monsieur 
Dessin  of  Sterne,  who,  by  the  way,  spells  the  name  incorrectly — 
Dessein  ;  and  in  the  quarto  copy  of  the  "  Sentimental  Journey," 
printed  both  in  French  and  English,  which  lies  in  the  coffee- 
room,  wherever  the  name  occurs  it  is  corrected  with  a  pencil. 

The  head  waiter,  an  old  man  who  has  lived  at  the  hotel  forty 
years,  followed  us  into  the  street  when  we  took  leave.  He  had 
noticed  that  we  felt  interested  in  the  hotel,  and  placing  his  hand 
on  my  shoulder,  he  said  : 

"  You  will  come  here  again  ?  " 

I  said :  "  I  hope  so,  and  tell  M.  Dessin  that,  if  I  do,  I  will 
bring  him  some  engravings  from  the  1  Sentimental  Journey '  "  (I 
meant  those  from  Stothard)  "  to  hang  up  in  his  rooms." 

Another  object  of  interest  to  me  was  the  old  gate,  painted  by 
Hogarth.  The  drawbridge,  with  its  chains  depending  from  the 
projecting  beams,  is  exactly  like  that  in  the  picture  ;  but  the  port- 
cullis is  gone,  and  the  gate  much  altered.  Whatever  remains 
there  may  have  been  of  the  English  arms  upon  it  in  Hogarth's 
time  are  now  wholly  removed. 

In  this  year  (1855)  we  lost  an  old  and  valued  friend,  Peter 
Powell,  who  never  entered  our  doors  without  bringing  cheerful- 
ness, and  who  often,  by  his  extraordinary  powers  of  amusing,  at 
our  little  parties,  made  entire  evenings  pass  as  if  we  formed  an 
audience  at  a  comedy.  His  songs,  all  his  own,  were  unsurpassed 
in  humour ;  but  his  great  performances  were  an  imitation  of  an 
oratorio  (in  which  he  gave  an  idea  .of  all  the  instruments  of  the 
orchestra,  and  of  Braham  on  the  stage,)  and  an  imitation  of  a 
melo-drama.  The  last  was  indeed  a  wonderful  affair.  Without 
scenery  or  any  change  of  his  dress  he  acted  an  entire  melo-drama 
far  more  amusingly  than  any  melo-drama  was  ever  acted  before. 
He  began  with  a  syllabus  in  rhyme  of  what  was  to  come : 

"  A  Baron  —  mustachoes  — 
A  great  hat  and  feather  — 
A  maid  in  despair  — 
And  a  deal  of  foul  weather. 

A  castle  —  a  village  — 
A  wedding  —  a  dance 
A  little  like  England, 
A  good  deal  like  France. 


CHAP.  XI.] 


PETER  POWELL. 


Then  thunder  and  lightning, 
And  just  in  the  middle, 
A  scream  from  a  maid, 
And  a  squeak  from  a  fiddle." 

But  how  lie  would  give  the  dialogue,  with  the  most  ludicrous 
imitation  of  the  melo-dramatic  style,  express  in  his  own  single 
comical  little  person  an  entire  corps  de  ballet  and  the  march  of  a 
stage  army,  and  conclude  all  with  a  grand  battle  of  infantry  and 
cavalry,  ending  in  a  single  combat  between  the  perfidious  Baron 
and  Lindor,  the  lover  of  the  piece,  in  which  the  Baron  falls  and 
dies  —  how  he  contrived  to  do  all  this  can  never  be  described. 

My  friendship  with  Powell  began  nearly  forty  years  ago,  and 
was  never  interrupted,  though  there  were  subjects  (and,  as  we 
both  considered  them,  important  ones,)  on  which  we  never  agreed. 
He  was  a  thoroughly  honest,  good-hearted,  benevolent  man,  of  a 
most  happy  temperament,  and  always  delighted  to  spread  happi- 
ness about  him.  He  died  at  a  good  old  age  (I  believe  not  far 
from  eighty)  with  little  suffering,  and  preserving  the  cheerfulness 
of  his  nature  to  the  last. 

Another  aged  friend  —  for  friend  I  feel  sure  I  may  call  him  — 
died  in  this  year,  whose  death  was  more  like  a  mere  dissolution 
of  nature,  without  disease,  than  any  death  within  my  recollection. 

Whatever  place  may  be  assigned  to  Samuel  Rogers  among 
poets,  he  deserves  to  hold  the  highest  place  among  men  of  taste ; 
not  merely  of  taste  for  this  or  that,  but  of  general  good  taste  in  all 
things.  He  was  the  only  man  I  have  ever  known  (not  an  artist) 
who  felt  the  beauties  of  art  like  an  artist.  He  was  too  quiet  to 
exercise  the  influence  he  should  have  maintained  among  the 
patrons  of  art ;  but,  as  far  as  his  own  patronage  extended,  it 
was  most  useful.  He  employed,  and  always  spoke  his  mind  in 
favour  of,  Flaxman,  Stothard,  and  Turner,  when  they  were  little 
appreciated  by  their  countrymen.  The  proof  of  his  superior 
judgment  to  that  of  any  contemporary  collector  of  art  or  vertu 
is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  there  was  nothing  in  his  house  that 
was  not  valuable.  In  most  other  collections  with  which  I  am 
acquainted,  however  fine  the  works  of  art,  or  however  rare  the 
objects  of  curiosity,  I  have  always  found  something  that  betrayed 
a  want  of  taste  —  an  indifferent  picture,  a  copy  passing  for  an 


156 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  XI. 


original,  or  something  vulgar  in  the  way  of  ornament.  Then, 
too,  his  collection  was  entirely  formed  by  himself,  whereas  most 
of  the  great  collections  of  pictures  of  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century  were  formed  under  the  direction  of  the  most  respectable 
dealers  —  men  whose  characters  warranted  their  honesty. 

Those  who  are  disposed  to  think  the  worst  of  Mr.  Rogers,  say 
that,  by  the  severity  of  his  remarks,  he  delighted  in  giving  pain. 
I  know  that,  by  the  kindliness  of  his  remarks,  and  still  more  by 
the  kindliness  of  his  acts,  he  delighted  to  give  pleasure. 

It  has  been  said  that  temperance,  the  bath,  the  flesh-brush,  and, 
above  all,  to  avoid  fretting,  were  his  receipts  for  health.  To  these 
I  can  add  another  —  fresh  air ;  for  he  was  a  great  walker,  and  it 
was  his  daily  custom  after  breakfast  (which  was  often  a  long  meal, 
as  he  was  fond  of  company  at  his  breakfast-table,)  to  go  out  and 
spend  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  the  open  air,  quite  regardless 
of  the  weather,  of  which  he  never  complained.  I  have  heard 
him  express  his  surprise  that  the  most  religious  people  were 
often  among  those  who  most  abused  the  weather.  "  They  forget," 
he  said,  "  who  sends  it.  And  when  it  is  fine,  if  you  remark  how 
plea -ant  it  is,  they  say,  '  Yes  ;  but  we  shall  pay  for  it.'  " 

Lord  Byron  thought  Rogers's  taste  must  have  been  "  the  misery 
of  his  existence."  Never  was  a  greater  mistake.  True  taste,  such 
as  his,  must  contribute  to  a  man's  happiness  ;  but  beside  the  pos- 
session of  this,  Rogers  had  a  happily-constituted  mind,  and  no  one 
who  knew  much  of  the  last  years  of  his  life,  and  who  saw  the 
sweet  smile  on  his  venerable  countenance,  when  his  memory  was 
gone,  and  when,  at  times,  he  did  not  know  that  he  was  in-  his  own 
house  —  no  one  could  see  that  sweet  smile  without  a  conviction 
that  he  had  much  of  Heaven  within  his  breast. 

While  he  retained  his  faculties,  I  heard  him  more  than  once 
repeat  the  concluding  lines  of  Mrs.  Barbauld's  "  Address  to 
Life."  * 

Life !  we  have  been  long  together, 
Through  pleasant  and  through  cloudy  weather; 
'Tis  hard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear; 
Perhaps  'twill  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear; 

*  I  once  met  Mrs.  Barbauld  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Wm.  Vaughan,  at  Clapham. 
She  was  a  little  old  lady,  still  handsome  in  age,  and  a  perfect  gentlewoman  in 
manners. 


CHAP.  XI.] 


ROGERS'S  TABLE  TALK. 


157 


Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning, 

Choose  thine  own  time  — 
Say  not  Good  night,  but  in  some  brighter  clime 

Bid  me  Good  morning. 

The  last  time  I  heard  him  recite  this  passage  was  at  Brighton. 
My  daughters  and  I  were  at  breakfast  with  him.  I  sat  so  as  to 
command  the  view  from  the  window  :  and  while  he  was  repeating 
the  lines  a  funeral  was  passing.    He  did  not  see  it. 

During  our  stay  at  Brighton,  he  took  me  to  the  Dyke,  which  I 
had  never  before  seen.  As  we  sat  in  his  carriage  looking  over 
the  vast  expanse  of  country  below  us,  he  pointed  down  to  a 
village  that  seemed  all  peace  and  beauty  in  the  tranquil  sun-set. 

"  Do  you  see,"  he  said,  "  those  three  large  tombstones  close  to 
the  tower  of  the  church  ?  My  father,  my  mother,  and  my  grand- 
father are  buried  there." 

"  Really?" 

"  No,  but  I  should  like  to  be  buried  there." 

On  telling  this  to  a  literary  friend,  a  man,  too,  who  aspired 
occasionally  to  be  poetical,  he  exclaimed,  "  What  a  lying  old 
rascal ! " 

Several  times,  at  Petworth,  we  met  Mr.  Rogers.  I  recollect 
that,  one  evening,  all  the  young  ladies  in  the  house,  formed  a 
circle  round  him,  listening  with  extreme  interest  to  a  series  of 
ghost  stories  which  he  told  with  great  effect.  Indeed,  while  he 
staid  at  Petworth,  the  beaux  there  had  little  chance  of  engaging 
the  attention  of  the  belles,  when  he  was  in  the  room.  His  man- 
ner of  telling  a  story  was  perfect.  I  remember  only  one  other 
person,  the  late  Lady  Holland,  who,  like  him,  used  the  fewest 
words  with  the  greatest  possible  effect ;  sometimes  more  than 
supplying  the  omission  of  a  word  by  a  look,  or  a  gesture. 
Rogers  told  his  stories  as,  in  prose  he  wrote  them.  The  story  of 
"  Marcolini "  in  his  "  Italy  "  for  instance,  could  not  have  better 
words,  nor  fewer,  without  loss  of  interest.  Walter  Scott's  man- 
ner was  different.  He  amplified,  digressed,  and  in  relating  any- 
thing he  had  heard,  added  touches  of  his  own  that  were  always 
charming.  Lord  Eldin  (John  Clerk),  once  said  to  him  —  "  Why, 
Sir  Walter,  that's  a  story  of  mine  you've  been  telling ;  but  you 
have  so  decorated  it,  that  I  scarcely  knew  it  again." 


1-58 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[CHAP.  XI. 


"  Do  you  think,"  said  Scott,  "  I'd  tell  one  of  your  stories, 
or  of  any  body's,  and  not  put  a  laced  coat  and  a  cocked  hat  upon 
it?" 

In  the  "  Table  Talk  "  of  Mr.  Rogers,  published  in  March, 
1856,  every  anecdote  that  I  have  heard  him  relate,  is  more  or 
less  spoilt  by  the  editor.  In  the  story  of  Lord  Ellenborough  and 
the  wig  box,  which  he  threw  so  angrily  out  of  his  carriage  win- 
dow, mistaking  it  for  his  wife's  bonnet-box,  Mr.  Rogers  used  to 
wind  up  with  "  Lady  Ellenborough  bore  it  like  an  angel ; "  but 
this  is  omitted. 

The  story  of  Sidney  Smith  asking  his  doctor  on  whose  stomach 
he  should  take  a  walk,  is  so  falsified  as  to  be  turned  into  utter 
nonsense.  The  story  of  George  IV.  talking  of  his  youthful  ex- 
ploits and  telling  the  Duke  of  Wellington  that  he  had  made  a 
body  of  troops  charge  down  the  Devil's  Dyke,  is  very  inferior  to 
the  story  as  Mr.  Rogers  told  it  to  me  while  we  were  together  at 
the  Dyke.    The  King  said  to  the  Duke  :  — 

"  I  once  galloped  down  that  hill  at  the  head  of  my  regiment." 

"  Very  steep,  sir,"  said  the  Duke. 

There  is  one  other  anecdote  which,  though  it  may  be  correctly 
reported,  must  not  pass  without  notice.  Mr.  Rogers  was  told 
that  a  gentleman,  passing  the  door  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  saw 
a  poor  woman  sitting  on  the  steps  and  crying.  She  said  she  had 
been  sitting  to  Sir  Joshua,  he  had  given  her  a  shilling,  it  was  a 
bad  one,  and  he  refused  to  change  it.  Now  there  are  two  implica- 
tions against  Reynolds  in  this  story ;  first  his  meanness  in  giving 
her  only  a  shilling ;  and,  secondly,  his  dishonesty  in  refusing  to 
change  it.  As  to  the  first  insinuation  —  if,  which  is  very  prob- 
able, the  woman  had  sat  but  an  hour,  a  shilling  was,  in  those 
days,  ample  payment,  for  no  more  is  expected  by  persons  who  sit 
to  artists  now  ;  and,  as  to  the  last,  it  is  utterly  incredible.  There 
cannot  be  a  doubt  that  the  woman  told  a  lie  to  excite  charity. 
That  such  an  anecdote  should  have  found  a  place  in  the  "  Table 
Talk,"  is  not  surprising;  but  I  am  surprised  that  Mr.  Rogers 
should  have  told  it  without  noticing  the  palpable  lie  of  the 
woman. 

Those  who  know  Rogers  only  from  his  writings,  can  have  no 
conception  of  his  humour.    I  have  seen  him,  in  his  old  age,  imi- 


CHAP.  XI.] 


ROGERS'S  TABLE  TALK. 


159 


tate  the  style  of  dancing  of  a  very  great  lady  with  an  exactness 
that  made  it  much  more  ludicrous  than  any  caricature  ;  and  I  re- 
member, when  I  met  him  at  Cassiobury,  that  he  made  some  droll 
attack,  I  quite  forget  what  it  was  about,  on  one  of  the  company, 
and  went  on  heightening  the  ridicule  at  every  sentence,  till  his 
face  "  was  like  a  wet  cloak  ill  laid  up,"  as  were  the  faces  of  all 
present,  and  especially  the  face  of  the  gentleman  he  was  at- 
tacking. 

At  an  evening  party,  at  which  I  met  him,  the  oddest  looking 
little  old  lady,  for  she  was  as  broad  as  she  was  long,  and  most 
absurdly  dressed,  as  she  was  leaving  the  room  saw  him  near  the 
door,  and  accosted  him  : 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Rogers,  it  is  very  long  since  I  have 
seen  you,  and  I  don't  think,  now,  you  know  who  I  am." 

u  Could  I  ever  forget  you ! "  He  said  it  with  such  an  em- 
phasis that  she  squeezed  his  hand  with  delight. 

I  think  it  was  in  the  summer  of  1842  that  Rogers,  Words- 
worth, and  Washington  Irving  were  all  under  my  roof  together. 
I  had  met  them  at  breakfast  at  Miss  Rogers's,  and  as  we  came 
away  at  the  same  time,  Rogers  walked  home  with  me,  and  Words- 
worth and  Irving,  promising  to  come,  took  a  cab.  As  they  got 
into  it,  Rogers  said :  — 

"  They  are  a  couple  of  humbugs,  I  believe,  we  shall  see  no 
more  of  them." 

They  came,  however,  and  Wordsworth's  eye  on  entering  my 
painting-room  was  caught  by  copies  by  Jackson  of  Reynolds's 
portraits  of  Sir  George  and  Lady  Beaumont.  But  I  must  inter- 
rupt my  story  to  mention  a  peculiarity  of  Rogers.  He,  and  it  is 
common  to  men  of  taste,  liked  to  find  out  something  to  admire 
that  had  escaped  others.  I  have  known  him  at  Holland  House, 
when  Lord  Holland  was  quoting,  with  praise,  something  affecting 
in  prose  or  poetry,  take  up  a  newspaper,  and  read  one  of  those 
anonymous  appeals  that  daily  appear  among  the  advertisements. 

"  If  J.  C.  will  return  to  the  home  which  is  made  desolate  by 
her  absence,  all  will  be  forgotten,  &c." 

"  There,"  he  would  say,  "  is  real  pathos." 

To  make  what  happened  in  my  room,  further  understood,  I 
must  mention  also  that  Rogers,  though  he  admitted  the  genius  of 


IGO 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XI. 


Constable,  did  not  admire  his  works  ;  the  only  indication,  as  I 
thought,  of  his  want  of  taste.  Indeed  he  often  told  me  that  my 
admiration  of  Constable  did  harm  to  my  own  practice.  And  now 
for  my  story  :  — 

"  Ah ! "  said  Wordsworth,  "  there  are  my  old  friends  Sir 
George  and  Lady  Beaumont." 

"  But  not  a  bit  like,"  said  Rogers.  "  You  look  at  them,  be- 
cause they  are  a  fine  lady  and  gentleman,  but  you  don't  notice 
those  sweet  cottage  children.  Who  painted  that  charming  pic- 
ture ?  "    (Turning  to  me.) 

"  Constable." 

I  confess  that  I  enjoyed  the  triumph  of  being  able  to  give  such 
an  ansAvcr.  The  picture  was  an  early  one  by  Constable  of  two 
little  girls,  children  of  his  father's  coachman.  It  belonged  to  Mr. 
Hering,  who  lent  it  to  me.  He  afterwards  had  it  cut,  and  each 
child  framed  in  an  oval.    The  youngest  he  gave  to  me. 

Mr.  Rogers  was  very  fond  of  children.  On  his  visits  to  us, 
when  ours  were  little  ones,  his  first  ceremony  was  to  rub  noses 
with  them. 

"  Now,"  he  would  say,  "  we  are  friends  for  life.  If  you  will 
come  and  live  with  me,  you  shall  have  as  much  cherry-pie  as  you 
can  eat,  and  a  white  poney  to  ride." 

At  a  later  period,  my  eldest  daughter  reminded  him  of  these 
promises,  and  said  :  — 

"  We  believed  you,  Mr.  Rogers." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  how  wrong  it  is  to  deceive  children  ;  but  will 
you  come  and  live  with  me  now  ?  " 

He  offered  her  his  arm,  she  took  it,  and  as  they  were  going  out 
of  the  door,  he  turned  to  me,  and  said  :  — 

"  Good  bye,  papa." 

It  was  reported,  that  about  this  time  he  made  an  offer  of  mar- 
riage to  a  young  lady  ;  most  probably  founded  on  something  like 
this.  I  was  told,  with  reference  to  the  reports,  that  Lady  Hol- 
land asked  him  if  he  intended  to  marry  Miss  ,  and  that  he 

said  :  — 

"  I'm  not  old  enough." 

His  stories  of  children,  of  which  he  told  many,  were  very 


CHAP.  XI.] 


SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


161 


pretty.  The  prettiest  was  of  a  little  girl,  who  was  a  great  favour- 
ite of  every  one  who  knew  her.    Some  one  said  to  her :  — 

"  Why  does  everybody  love  you  so  much  ?  "  She  answered  :  — 

"  I  think  it  is  because  I  love  everybody  so  much." 

He  spent  most  of  his  time  in  society,  or  in  walking.  He  told 
me  that  he  never  read  excepting  when  confined  to  his  house  by 
illness,  and  "  then,"  he  said,  "  it  is  a  new  pleasure." 

I  once  dined  in  the  chambers  Mr.  Rogers  occupied  in  the  Tem- 
ple, before  he  took  the  house  in  St.  James's  Place.  The  dining- 
room  was  a  large  and  cheerful  one,  on  the  ground-floor,  in  Paper 
Buildings  (I  think),  and  commanded  a  fine  view  of  the  river. 
He  had  faced  the  window-shutters  with  looking-glass,  so  that 
from  every  part  of  the  room  there  were  to  be  seen  views  of  the 
river,  up  and  down. 


11 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Prince  Saunders  —  Wilson's  Ornithology  —  Peter  Pindar  —  Matthews  "  At 
Home"  —  Kenney,  the  Dramatist  —  Rogers  and  Maltby. 

On  the  1st  of  October,  1856,  our  daughter  Caroline  was  mar- 
ried to  Mr.  Alexander  Pearson  Fletcher,  a  young  man  whom 
we  all  greatly  like,  and  not  the  less  for  his  being  a  Scotchman. 
They  went  to  Paris,  where  Caroline  was  so  ill  that  her  mother 
and  I  joined  them,  and  staid  till  she  was  well  enough  to  return. 

Like  all  old  people,  I  now  live  much  in  the  past,  and  constantly 
recall  to  mind  persons  and  scenes  of  which  I  have  said  nothing  in 
these  pages. 

Nearly  forty  years  ago,  a  Boston  negro,  named  Prince  Saun- 
ders, came  to  England,  I  think,  with  the  intention  of  going  to 
Africa  as  a  missionary.  He  had  education  enough  to  keep  a  lit- 
tle school  in  Boston,  where,  I  believe,  he  had  also  preached.  He, 
however,  went  not  to  Africa,  but  to  Hayti,  where  he  obtained  the 
favour  of  the  king,  and  returned  to  England  with  a  great  deal  of 
money.  He  was  noticed  by  Mr.  Wilberforce,  and  soon  became  a 
lion  of  the  first  magnitude  in  fashionable  circles.  The  Countess 
of  Cork  could  not  have  a  party  without  "  his  Highness  Prince 
Saunders ; "  for  as  he  put  his  Christian  name  "  Prince  "  on  his 
cards  without  the  addition  of  Mr.,  he  was  believed  to  be  a  native 
African  Prince,  and  he  did  not  undeceive  those  who  chose  to 
think  him  one.  In  short,  his  whole  career  here  was  an  amusing 
instance  of  humbug ;  on  his  part,  however,  no  otherwise  than  by 
his  silently  allowing  his  admirers  to  humbug  themselves. 

This  was  very  amusing  to  the  Americans  who  had  known  him 
at  home.  A  great  Boston  lady  was  in  England,  who,  when 
Saunders  last  called  on  her  in  Boston,  would  send  him  into  the 
kitchen^  to  have  lunch  with  her  servants.  He  called  on  her  early 
one  morning  in  London.    She  was  at  breakfast,  and  with  extreme 


CHAP.  XII.] 


PEINCE  SAUNDEES. 


163 


condescension  (as  she  thought)  offered  him  a  cup  of  tea.  "  No, 
thank  you,  ma'am,"  he  said,  "  I  am  going  to  breakfast  at  Carlton 
House." 

I  was  taken  by  my  friend  Dr.  Francis,  of  New  York,  to  one 
of  Sir  Joseph  Banks's  conversazioni.  The  old  gentleman  re- 
ceived his  company  sitting  (being  very  gouty),  in  his  library,  at 
one  end  of  which  hung  a  portrait  of  Captain  Cook. 

"  Lamented  and  with  tears  as  just, 
As  ever  mingled  with  heroic  dust." 

The  room  was  filled  with  the  most  eminent  scientific  and  lit- 
erary men,  but  Prince  Saunders,  the  coal  black  Boston  negro, 
was  the  great  man  of  the  evening  ;  a  negro  too  of  the  most  mod- 
erate abilities.  Everybody  asked  to  be  presented  to  "  his  High- 
ness." I  got  near  to  hear  what  passed  in  his  circle,  and  a  gentle- 
man, with  a  star  and  ribbon,  said  to  him,  "  What  surprises  me  is 
that  you  speak  English  so  well."  Saunders,  who  had  never  spo- 
ken any  other  language  in  his  life,  bowed,  and  smiled  acceptance 
of  the  compliment. 

He  had  a  large  party  one  evening  at  his  lodgings ;  but  the 
Countess  of  Cork,  having  a  party  the  same  night,  as  she  could 
not  go  to  Saunders,  sent  her  carriage  for  him,  and  he  left  his 
company,  and  went  to  the  Lady  Cork. 

From  Prince  Saunders,  a  nobody,  who  was  made  much  of,  my 
recollections  go  back  to  a  man  who  was  somebody,  and  (compara- 
tively) made  little  of  while  he  lived  —  Alexander  Wilson,  the 
ornithologist. 

Mr.  Bradford,  the  same  liberal  patron  who  enabled  me  to  study 
painting,  enabled  Wilson  to  publish  the  most  interesting  account 
of  birds,  and  to  illustrate  it  with  the  best  representations  of  their 
forms  and  colours,  that  has  ever  appeared.  Wilson  was  engaged 
by  Mr.  Bradford  as  tutor  to  his  sons,  and  as  editor  of  the  Ameri- 
can edition  of  "  Pees's  Cyclopaedia ; "  while  at  the  same  time  he 
was  advancing  his  Ornithology  for  publication.  I  assisted  him  to 
colour  some  of  its  first  plates.  We  worked  from  birds  which  he 
had  shot  and  stuffed,  and  I  well  remember  the  extreme  accuracy 
of  his  drawings,  and  how  carefully  he  had  counted  the  number  of 
scales  on  the  tiny  legs  and  feet  of  his  subject. 

He  looked  like  a  bird ;  his  eyes  were  piercing,  dark,  and  lumin- 


164 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XII. 


ous,  and  his  nose  shaped  like  a  beak.  He  was  of  a  spare  bony- 
form,  very  erect  in  his  carriage,  inclining  to  be  tall ;  and  with  a 
light  elastic  step,  he  seemed  perfectly  qualified  by  nature  for  his 
extraordinary  pedestrian  achievements. 

Alexander  Wilson  belonged  to  a  class  of  men  of  which  Scot- 
land seems  to  have  produced  a  greater  number  than  any  other 
country — men  from  the  humble  and  middle  classes  of  life,  of 
poetic  minds,  lovers  of  nature,  of  science,  and  of  art  —  men  of 
unconquerable  perseverance,  who  succeed  at  last  in  acquiring 
fame,  and  sometimes  fortune,  often  in  despite  of  the  most  adverse 
circumstances  in  early  life. 

Wilson's  ardour  in  the  pursuit  of  science  was  too  much  for  Ins 
bodily  strength,  and  he  died  at  the  age  of  forty-five. 

His  biographer,  George  Ord,  speaks  thus  of  him :  — "  Mr. 
Wilson  possessed  the  nicest  sense  of  honour.  In  all  his  dealings 
he  was  not  only  scrupulously  just,  but  highly  generous.  His  ven- 
eration for  truth  was  exemplary.  His  disposition  was  sociable 
and  affectionate.  His  benevolence  extensive.  He  was  remarka- 
bly temperate  in  eating  and  drinking ;  his  love  of  retirement 
preserving  him  from  the  contamination  of  the  convivial  circle. 
And  unlike  the  majority  of  his  countrymen,  he  abstained  from 
the  use  of  tobacco  in  every  shape.  But  as  no  one  is  perfect,  he 
partook  in  a  small  degree  of  the  weakness  of  humanity.  He 
was  of  the  genus  irritabile,  and  was  obstinate  in  opinion.  It 
ever  gave  him  pleasure  to  acknowledge  error  when  the  conviction 
resulted  from  his  own  judgment  alone,  but  he  could  not  endure  to 
be  told  of  mistakes.  Hence  his  associates  had  to  be  sparing  of 
their  criticisms,  through  fear  of  forfeiting  his  friendship.  With 
almost  all  his  friends  he  had  occasionally,  arising  from  a  collision 
of  opinion,  some  slight  misunderstanding,  which  was  soon  passed 
over,  leaving  no  disagreeable  impression.  But  an  act  of  disre- 
spect, or  wilful  injury,  he  would  seldom  forgive." 

Mr.  Bradford  was  the  most  enterprising  publisher  in  America, 
and  determined  to  make  the  "  Ornithology,"  as  far  as  he  had  to 
do  with  it,  in  the  highest  degree  creditable  to  his  country. 

The  types,  which  were  very  beautiful,  were  cast  in  America ; 
and  though  at  that  time  paper  was  largely  imported,  he  determined 
that  the  paper  should  be  of  American  manufacture ;  and  I  re- 


CHAP.  XII.] 


WILSON'S  ORNITHOLOGY. 


165 


member  that  Amies,  the  paper  maker,  carried  his  patriotism  so 
far  that  he  declared  he  would  use  only  American  rags  in  making 
it.  The  result  was  that  the  book  far  surpassed  any  other  that  had 
appeared  in  that  country,  and  I  apprehend,  though  it  may  have 
been  equalled  in  typography,  has  not  before  or  since  been  equalled 
in  its  matter  or  its  plates. 

Bewick  comes  nearest  to  it ;  but  his  accounts  of  birds  are  not 
so  full  and  complete,  and  his  figures,  admirably  characteristic  and 
complete  as  they  are  in  form,  have  not  the  advantage  of  the  much 
larger  scale  of  Wilson's,  or  of  colour. 

Unfortunately  Wilson's  book  was  necessarily  expensive,  and 
therefore  not  remunerative ;  but  nothing  discouraged  him,  as  will 
be  seen  by  an  extract  from  a  letter  which  must,  from  its  date,  have 
been  written  when  the  first  volume  only  had  appeared,  which  was 
followed  by  eight  more. 

"  If  I  have  been  mistaken  in  publishing  a  work  too  good  for  the 
country,  it  is  a  fault  not  likely  to  be  soon  repeated,  and  will  pretty 
severely  correct  itself.  But  whatever  may  be  the  result  of  these 
matters,  I  shall  not  sit  down  with  folded  hands  while  anything 
can  be  done  to  carry  my  point,  since  God  helps  them  who  help 
themselves.  I  am  fixing  correspondents  in  every  corner  of  these 
remote  regions  *  like  so  many  pickets  or  outposts,  so  that  scarcely 
a  wren  or  tit  shall  be  able  to  pass  along  from  York  to  Canada  but 
I  shall  get  intelligence  of  it." 

Before  I  left  America  I  was  well  acquainted  with  Peter  Pin- 
dar's verses,  and  indeed  knew  many  of  them  by  heart ;  for  (not- 
withstanding his  ill-nature)  his  humour  and  his  excellent  sense, 
when  not  influenced  by  a  bad  motive,  made  me  read  him  with 
delight  and  I  think  with  some  profit.  A  short  time  before  Dr. 
Wolcott's  death  I  became  acquainted  with  a  young  Irishman,  a 
literary  man,  named  Desmoulins,  who  was  intimate  with  him,  and 
who,  knowing  my  admiration  of  his  poems,  offered  to  take  me  to 
see  him.  The  doctor  appointed  a  day  to  receive  us,  and  we  called 
at  his  lodgings  in  a  small  house  in  an  obscure  street  in  Somers- 
town.  But  he  was  too  ill  to  see  a  stranger.  Mr.  Desmoulins 
went  up  to  his  bed  room,  and  I  stayed  in  his  little  sitting  room 
which  was  furnished  as  might  be  expected.  There  were  shelves 
*  He  was  writing  from  Boston. 


106 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XII. 


with  books,  a  piano,  on  which  lay  a  violin,  and  there  were  pic- 
tures and  drawings  on  the  walls,  of  which  some  were  small 
copies  from  Reynolds,  and  some  landscapes  in  water-colours  by 
Wolcott  himself.  As  well  as  I  recollect,  these  were  good, 
their  effects  of  light  and  shade  broad  and  powerful.  He  died 
soon  after. 

I  was  standing  one  day  with  Mr.  Sockett,  the  rector  of  Pet- 
worth,  before  his  house,  when  an  old-fashioned  chair  upon  wheels 
was  drawn  past  by  a  labouring  man,  a  crippled  pauper  being  in 
it.  "  Go  and  put  your  hand  on  the  back  of  that  chair,"  said  Mr. 
Sockett.  I  did  so,  and  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  your  hand  has  been 
where  the  hand  of  the  poet  Cowper  has  often  been.  I  have  often 
drawn  Mrs.  Unwin  in  that  chair  round  Hayley's  grounds  at 
Eartham,  with  Cowper  and  Hayley  pushing  at  the  back  of  it. 
The  old  lady  had  an  attack  of  paralysis  while  she  and  Cowper 
were  on  a  visit  to  Hayley.  Cowper  remembered  to  have  heard 
that  electricity  was  good  in  such  attacks,  and  the  nearest  electrical 
machine  being  at  my  mother's  house  it  was  sent  for,  and  I  (then 
a  boy)  being  the  only  person  who  knew  how  to  make  use  of  it  was 
sent  for  to  work  it.  Hayley  took  a  fancy  to  me,  and  afterwards 
recommended  me  to  Lord  Egremont  as  a  tutor  to  his  three  sons. 
Lord  Egremont  sent  me  to  college  with  them,  I  took  orders,  and 
he  gave  me  this  living ;  and  all  this  followed  from  the  accident 
of  Mrs.  Unwin's  attack  at  Hayley's  house. 

Mr.  Sockett  has  a  set  of  chairs  which  had  belonged  to  Hayley. 
They  are  of  carved  mahogany,  and  designed  by  Flaxman.  The 
centre  of  every  back  is  a  lyre. 

I  have  been  at  many  pleasant  dinner  parties,  as  I  suppose 
everybody  who  has  reached  the  age  of  sixty-three  may  say,  but 
at  few  more  amusing  than  one  at  Mr.  Cartwright's,  at  which 
Charles  Kemble  and  Matthews  the  elder  were  present.  Edwin 
Landseer  was  there  and  Mr.  Z.,  as  I  shall  call  a  person  of  some 
note  in  his  day. 

Matthews  was  preparing  a  new  "  At  Home,"  and  rehearsing 
his  songs  in  private  companies  according  to  his  custom,  and  we 
had  the  benefit  of  one  of  these  rehearsals.  He  sung  several  after 
dinner.  One,  as  I  remember,  described  a  fox-hunt,  and  con- 
cluded with  an  enumeration  of  the  mishaps  of  the  day  incurred 


CHAP.  XII.] 


MATTHEWS  AT  HOME. 


167 


by  a  dandy  who  had  never  hunted  before.  "  He  had  been 
fatigued  to  death,  thrown  into  a  ditch,  lost  his  boa,  his  hat,  and 
one  of  his  boots,  and  all  because  a  parcel  of  dogs  chose  to  follow 
an  unpleasant  smell."  These  compositions  of  Matthews  consisted 
of  alternate  singing  and  speaking.  I  think  he  invented  that  kind 
of  song,  and  I  believe  he  was  assisted  in  them  and  in  the  getting 
up  of  his  entire  entertainment  by  his  son,  now  so  deservedly 
popular. 

Mrs.  Trollope's  book  on  America  was  just  published,  and  Mr. 
Z.  took  occasion  to  eulogise  it  and  abuse  the  Americans.  Mat- 
thews defended  them.  As  to  Americanisms,  he  said,  he  once 
made  out  a  pretty  long  list,  but  had  since  met  with  every  one  of 
them  in  England  excepting  only  "  Slick  right  away."  Then  Z. 
attacked  their  mispronunciations,  and  Matthews  mentioned  several 
words  in  which  they  are  more  correct  than  Englishmen.  For 
instance  engine,  in  which  they  give  the  true  sounds  of  the  vowels, 
while  here  it  is  commonly  pronounced  ingin.  Edwin  Landseer 
mentioned  Lunnon  for  London,  charot  for  chariot,  as  not  unfre- 
quent  among  fashionable  people,  and  potticary  also.  "  Sir,"  said 
Z.,  with  an  expression  of  great  contempt,  "  you  must  have  lived 

among  potticaries."    "  Did  you  ever  hear  "  (naming  a  lady 

of  high  rank)  "  say  potticary  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  Landseer.  Z.  then, 
without  knowing  the  least  about  the  matter,  doubted  whether  the 
eating  and  drinking  in  America  were  to  be  compared  to  ours  — 
"You  never  sat  down  to  such  a  dinner  as  this  in  America." 
Matthews  made  him  very  angry  by  asserting  that  he  had  often 
done  so,  and  with  wine  as  good,  "  and  such  Madeira  as  you  never 
tasted,  and  never  will  taste  till  you  go  there."  He  added  some- 
thing more  that  made  Z.,  who  had  by  this  time  taken  quite  wine 
enough,  so  angry  that  he  rose  on  his  feet  and  exclaimed,  "  That's 
not  true,  you  stupid  old  Mr.  Matthews ; "  and  Matthews  answered 
with  the  most  perfect  good  humour,  "  It  is  true,  you  sensible  old 
Mr.  Z." 

A  friend  of  mine  wrote  a  farce,  I  think  some  five  and  forty 
years  ago,  and  sent  it  to  the  managers  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 
who  kept  it  for  some  time  and  returned  it  with  a  civil  refusal. 
Not  long  after,  a  new  farce  was  announced  at  Covent  Garden, 
called  "  Love,  Law,  and  Physick."    Now  a  lawyer  and  a  doctor 


168  MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE.  [chap.  xii. 


were  the  principal  personages  in  my  friend's  production,  and  of 
course  there  was  love  in  it  ;  so  we  were  almost  certain  it  had 
been  pirated.  We  formed  a  party,  therefore,  for  the  first  night, 
to  detect  the  villany  of  the  managers  and  the  author,  and  I  am 
not  sure  that  my  friend  had  not  prepared  a  rough  draft  of  an 
indignant  letter  to  some  newspaper.  There  was  not  however  the 
remotest  resemblance  between  Kenney's  admirable  after-piece  and 
our  friend's  ;  and,  instead  of  the  luxury  of  a  first  rate  grievance, 
we  saw  "  Love,  Law,  and  Physiek  "  acted  more  amusingly  than 
it  was  ever  acted  again ;  for  Matthews,  as  the  lawyer,  gave  an 
imitation  of  Lord  Ellenborough,  summing  up  a  case  and  charging 
a  jury,  which  he  was  not  permitted  to  repeat.  The  other  actors 
were  Liston,  Emery,  and  Blanchard ;  and  there  was  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
to  see  whom  and  to  hear  whose  joyous  laugh  would  have  been 
worth  our  tickets,  had  the  rest  been  bad  actors  instead  of  the  very 
best. 

Many  years  after  this  I  became  acquainted  with  Kenney,  and 
found  him  always  delightful.  His  health  was  bad,  and  he  suf- 
fered from  a  nervous  affection  which  showed  itself  very  oddly  ; 
sometimes  it  seemed  impossible  for  him  to  make  up  his  mind  to 
step  over  a  gutter  or  to  get  into  a  carriage.  But  he  always  talked 
well,  was  always  ready  to  amuse  or  be  amused,  and  every  mo- 
ment of  his  life  he  was  a  perfect  gentleman. 

His  abilities,  however,  failed  to  do  for  him  what  infinitely 
smaller  abilities  constantly  do  for  other  men,  and  he  was  always, 
at  least  while  I  knew  him,  struggling  with  pecuniary  difficulties. 
His  indifferent  health  no  doubt  precluded  much  effort,  and  he  had 
a  large  family  to  support. 

At  last,  when  worn  out  with  fruitless  exertion,  his  friends  made 
arrangements  to  give  him  a  benefit  at  Drury  Lane.  I  saw  him  a 
day  or  two  before  it  took  place.  He  was  ill,  but  not  in  bed,  and 
hoped  to  be  at  the  theatre ;  but  on  the  very  morning  of  the  day 
of  his  benefit  he  died. 

The  first  thought  of  his  family  was  to  postpone  the  perform- 
ance, but  Mr.  Rogers,  who  had  taken  a  great  interest  in  the 
affair,  said  "  No ; "  and  the  "  Beggars'  Opera,"  and  "  Love,  Law, 
and  Physiek"  were  acted  to  an  overflowing  house,  in  which 
what  had  happened  that  morning  was  known  only  behind  the 


CHAP.  XII.] 


ROGERS  AND  MALTBY. 


169 


scenes.  Wright  played  Liston's  part  in  the  farce,  and  better  than 
any  body  but  Liston  could  play  it. 

In  Charles  Lamb's  "  Two  Races  of  Men,"  there  is  an  amusing 
allusion  to  Kenney  and  to  Mrs.  Kenney,  "  that  part-French,  better- 
part  English  woman,"  as  Lamb  calls  her. 

I  think  it  was  Kenney  who  said  of  Luttrell's  "  Advice  to 
Julia,"  a  poem  aiming  at  humour,  that  "  it  was  too  long  and  not 
broad  enough." 

Poor  Kenney !  the  sufferings  of  so  sensitive  and  fine  a  mind 
as  his,  sufferings  which  were  never  obtruded  on  his  friends,  must 
have  been  very  great.  But  he  enjoyed  society,  and  adorned  it  in 
his  quiet  modest  way. 

I  constantly  recall  anecdotes  of  those  who  are  gone,  and  I 
shall  put  down  at  a  venture  things  that  amused  me  in  the  hope 
that  they  may  amuse  others. 

Mr.  Rogers  told  me  that  when  the  "  Pleasures  of  Memory " 
was  first  published,  one  of  those  busy  gentlemen,  who  are 
vain  of  knowing  everybody,  came  up  to  him  at  a  party,  and 

said,  "  Lady  is  dying  to  be  introduced  to  the  author  of 

the  '  Pleasures  of  Memory.'  "  "  Pray  let  her  live,"  said  Rogers, 
and  with  difficulty  they  made  their  way  through  the  crowd  to 
the  lady.  "  Mr.  Rogers,  madam,  author  of  the  '  Pleasures  of 
Memory.' "  "  Pleasures  of  what ? "  "I  felt  for  my  friend,"  said 
Rogers. 

Not  many  years  before  his  death  he  visited  Paris  with  his 
friend  Mr.  Maltby.  Maltby  was  a  year  or  two  the  elder,  and 
their  friendship  began  (I  think  Mr.  Rogers  told  me)  when  he 
was  but  nine,  and  lasted  without  the  slightest  interruption  till  the 
death  of  Maltby  at  upwards  of  ninety. 

Maltby  was  one  of  the  most  absent  of  men.  While  in  Paris 
together  Rogers  dined  at  a  party,  where  a  lady  who  sat  next 
him  did  not  know  him  at  first,  but  after  hearing  him  talk  for  some 
time  discovered  who  he  was.  Maltby  was  not  at  this  dinner,  and 
Rogers  telling  him  of  this  lady  said,  "  she  asked  if  my  name  was 
not  Rogers."    u  And  was  it  ?  "  inquired  Maltby. 

Mr.  Rogers  said  he  preferred  the  mode  in  Roman  Catholic 
churches  of  seats  without  pews ;  and  a  gentleman  who  preferred 
pews  said,  "  If  there  were  seats  only,  I  might  find  myself  sitting 


170 


MEMOIR  OF  C.  R.  LESLIE. 


[chap.  XII. 


by  my  coachman."  "  And  perhaps  you  may  be  glad  to  find  your- 
self beside  him  in  the  next  world."  • 

I  remember  also  his  saying,  "  those  who  go  to  heaven  will  be 
very  much  surprised  at  the  people  they  find  there,  and  very  much 
surprised  at  those  they  do  not  find  there." 

******* 


EXTRACTS 

FROM 

LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


When  a  little  above  seventeen  Leslie  landed  in  England,  as 
we  read  in  his  Autobiography,  in  December,  1811.  He  kept  up 
a  regular  correspondence  with  his  family  at  Philadelphia,  from 
which,  however,  only  extracts  have  been  placed  at  my  disposal. 
It  is  principally  from  these  extracts  and  his  correspondence  with 
Washington  Irving,  that  the  following  selections  have  been  made. 
Leslie  was  a  regular  exhibitor  at  the  Royal  Academy  from  1813 
to  1859,  the  year  of  his  death,  with  the  exception  of  1815,  1817, 
1818,  1823,  1828,  1830,  1834,  and  1853.  His  life  was  unevent- 
ful ;  spent  in  the  affectionate  discharge  of  family  duties  —  which 
no  man  ever  fulfilled  better  —  and  in  the  happy  practice  of  his 
art.  Its  public  interest  lies  entirely  in  its  connection  with  his 
pictures.  I  have  therefore  enumerated,  for  each  year,  the  pic- 
tures of  that  year,  with  selections  from  his  letters  which  throw 
light  on  the  progress  of  his  pictures,  or  on  the  occupations,  ideas, 
and  associations  of  the  painter.  I  have  been  fuller'  in  my  ex- 
tracts from  the  earlier  letters,  as  of  importance  in  illustrating  the 
growth  of  the  writer's  mind,  both  as  regards  art  and  general 
culture. 

Leslie's  letters  paint  the  man  —  affectionate,  social,  candid, 
modest,  and  eager  for  instruction  and  improvement ;  always  seek- 
ing the  society  of  the  best  and  most  eminent  persons  to  whom  he 
could  gain  access,  without  intrusion  or  forwardness. 


172 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


1812. 

Pictures  Painted  this  Year. 

Timon  of  Athens.  —  Hercules.  —  Portraits  of  Mrs.  Visscher;  Miss 
Smythe;  Mr.  Inskeep;  Mr.  Coate;  Benjamin  West,  P.  R.  A.;  Mr. 
West  (of  Salem,  Massachusetts);  Mr.  Earle. 

Leslie's  first  year  in  London  was  a  memorable  one,  especially 
to  citizens  of  the  United  States  residing  in  England.  On  the 
the  29th  of  June,  1812,  the  orders  in  council,  affecting  the  trade 
of  neutrals  were  revoked,  as  regards  America,  in  consequence  of 
the  revocation  of  Napoleon's  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees.  But  un- 
luckily for  the  specific  effect  of  our  revocation  in  the  United 
States,  Congress  had  already  declared  war  with  England  on  the 
18th  of  the  same  month. 

This  war  continued  till  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty  of  Ghent, 
on  December  the  24th,  1814.  Leslie's  letters  extending  over  this 
period  contain  allusions  to  the  hostile  relations  of  the  two  coun- 
tries and  regrets  at  the  obstruction  to  correspondence  thus  caused, 
but  it  is  remarkable  that  these  allusions  show  scarcely  any  trace 
of  bitterness  against  this  country.  The  young  writer,  though 
thoroughly  national,  seems,  already,  to  have  felt  that,  let  the  gov- 
ernments differ  as  they  might,  the  nations  were  kindred.  To  him 
London  was,  above  all,  the  seat  and  nursery  of  the  arts  he  loved. 
Politics  occupy  him  little. 

His  chief  associates  were  the  American  artists,  Allston,  King 
and  Morse.  His  days  were  spent  in  study  at  the  Academy,  the 
British  Museum,  and  Burlington  House,  where  the  Elgin  mar- 
bles were  then  deposited,  or  in  portrait  painting.  Before  begin- 
ning work,  he  tells  his  sister,  he  often  bathed  in  the  Serpentine. 
The  favourite  amusement  of  his  evenings  was  the  play.  This 
was  the  year  of  Mrs.  Siddons'  retirement  from  the  stage,  and  he 
followed  her  through  the  round  of  her  farewell  performances. 
His  earliest  letters  are  almost  equally  divided  between  his  own 
art  and  the  theatre. 

Thus,  writing  to  Miss  Leslie,  19th  April,  1812,  he  tells  her 


1812.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


173 


"  I  have  just  returned  from  seeing  '  The  Gamester. '  It  is  the 
last  time  Mrs.  Sidclons  is  ever  to  perform  the  character  of  Mrs. 
Beverley ;  I  never  saw  so  perfect  a  piece  of  acting.  She  appear- 
ed very  much  affected  at  the  commencement,  and  really  shed 
tears.  In  the  scene  between  her  and  Stukely,  she  was  uncom- 
monly fine.  Although  she  is  now  very  large,  she  appears  as  easy 
in  her  motions  as  a  young  girl,  and  is  extremely  graceful.  In 
the  last  scene,  she  almost  surpassed  herself.  A  lady  in  the  boxes 
went  into  hysterics  and  was  carried  out.  The  look  of  speechless 
agony  she  cast  on  the  body  of  Beverley  as  she  went  off,  surpassed 
everything  I  had  ever  seen.  Beverley  was  played  by  Young, 
who  is  very  like  Wood  *  in  his  manners  (the  latter  I  believe 
copies  him,)  though  a  much  better  stage  figure,  and  has  a  fine 
head,  though  I  will  not  say  a  more  expressive  countenance.  His 
voice  too  is  very  good.  He  stands  certainly  next  to  Kemble  in 
tragedy.  Lewson  was  very  well  played  by  C.  Kemble.  Stukely, 
by  Egerton,  was  but  ordinary.  King  has  seen  Cooke  in  that 
character,  with  Kemble  and  Mrs.  Siddons.  What  a  treat!  I 
can  scarcely  bear  to  think  of  it.  I  did  not  stay  to  see  the  farce, 
which  was  the  '  Child  of  Nature. ' 

"  In  the  Exhibition,  which  will  open  in  a  few  days,  there  is  to 
be  a  picture  of  Kemble  in  '  Cato, '  by  Lawrence,  which  he  has 
just  finished.  I  have  seen  that  of  him  in  Hamlet  —  it  is  very 
fine. 

"  A  new  romance  by  Murphy  has  appeared,  called  '  The 
Milesian  Chief. '  Allston,  who  is  a  great  admirer  of  this  man's 
works,  says  it  is  much  better  than  *  The  Fatal  Revenge. '  It  is 
a  modern  story ;  the  scene  is  in  Ireland.  I  have  seen  the  first 
volume,  but  have  not  been  able  to  get  the  others  from  the  library. 
The  language  abounds  in  poetical  images.  Morse  and  myself 
subscribe  jointly  to  a  very  large  library  in  Bond  Street.  We 
take  out  seven  volumes  at  a  time.  The  days  now  are  quite 
long,  and  the  weather  begins  to  be  very  fine. 

"  When  it  grows  warmer  I  shall  go  to  the  British  Museum 
every  day,  to  draw  from  the  antiques,  of  which  there  is  a  fine 
collection  there.  I  have  begun  to  study  the  Vault  Scene  in 
Marmion,  which  I  shall  finish  for  the  next  Exhibition.  I  wished 
to  have  done  something  for  this  year;  but  it  was  impossible. 
*  An  Actor  in  Philadelphia.  —  Ed. 


174 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


You  know  it  requires  some  time  to  use  oil  colours  with  facility, 
and  as  I  never  painted  in  that  way  until  I  came  here,  my  first  es- 
says were  wretched  daubs,  and  I  could  have  sent  out  nothing 
that  would  not  have  disgraced  me.  I  have  painted  several  por- 
traits, and  have  improved  myself  so  much  that  I  shall  soon  be 
able  to  earn  something  in  that  way. 

"  You  wish  there  may  be  an  accommodation  between  the  two 
countries.  I  think  there  will  soon  be.  You  can  have  no  idea  of 
the  distress  our  non-intercourse  has  caused  here.  There  is  noth- 
ing to  be  heard  of  but  riots  in  the  manufacturing  towns.  The 
poor  are  in  a  state  of  starvation.  The  Prince  is  abused  by 
everybody.  You  would  be  astonished  at  the  audacity  of  the  pub- 
lic papers  against  him.  He  is  caricatured  in  all  the  print  shops. 
I  am  sure  he  cannot  be  less  popular  in  America  than  he  is  here. 
The  '  Examiner, '  a  violent  opposition  paper,  said  the  other  day, 
4  it  was  reported  that  the  Prince  and  his  brothers  were  going  to 
the  Continent  in  person.'  He  observed  that,  '  it  would  be  a  most 
refreshing  sight  to  see  those  royal  personages  quitting  the  coun- 
try for  the  good  of  the  state.'  Cooper  will  be  a  very  great  loser 
by  his  bet.  The  King  may  live  these  twenty  years  yet,  for 
aught  I  know  ;  he  is  now  doing  very  well.  I  dare  say  I  shall 
not  stay  here  long  enough  to  witness  his  funeral.  I  went  the 
other  day  to  see  Barker's  Panorama  of  Lisbon.  It  is  admirably 
painted,  and  said  to  be  exactly  like  it.  I  think  I  mentioned  in 
another  letter  that  I  had  seen  two  other  paintings  of  the  sort. 
They  are  certainly  perfect  in  their  way.  The  objects  appear  so 
real,  that  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  at  what  distance  the  canvas 
is  from  the  eye. 

"  I  went  lately  to  see  an  Exhibition  of  Water  Colour  Drawings, 
from  the  Old  Masters.  They  have  brought  that  kind  of  painting 
to  greater  perfection  in  this  country  than,  I  believe,  ever  was 
known  before. 

"  The  colours  appear  equally  brilliant  with  oil,  but  I  cannot 
see  any  advantage  in  it,  as  it  is  quite  as  much  trouble  to  use  them 
as  oil,  and  the  pictures  will  not  last  so  long."  * 

On  May  the  11th,  Perceval  was  assassinated.  Leslie  writes 
next  day 

*  They  sometimes  last  longer.  —  Leslie. 


1812.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


175 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  May  12th,  1812. 
******* 

"  There  has  been  a  violent  sensation  excited  here  to-day  by  the 
assassination  of  Mr.  Perceval.  You  will  no  doubt  have  heard 
of  this  shocking  affair  before  this  reaches  you.  He  was  shot  last 
evening  in  the  passage  to  the  House  of  Commons  just  as  he  was 
entering,  by  a  man  who  had  posted  himself  there  for  the  purpose, 
said  to  be  a  bankrupt  merchant  of  Liverpool.  The  ball  penetrated 
his  heart,  and  he  instantly  expired.  The  perpetrator  of  the  deed 
surrendered  himself  immediately  to  the  officers  of  justice ;  indeed 
it  was  very  evident  he  had  no  wish  to  escape.  As  soon  as  it 
reached  the  ears  of  the  mob  they  assembled  in  vast  bodies  about 
the  house  crying  out,  '  Burdett  for  ever.'  I  am  told  there  has 
been  chalked  on  many  of  the  walls  near  it,  i  Peace,  or  the  Re- 
gent's Head.'  There  seems  to  be  some  mighty  event  about  to 
take  place  here.  It  appears  to  me  like  a  great  play,  at  which  I 
am  an  unconcerned  spectator. 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  seeing  Mrs.  Siddons  in  '  Venice 
Preserved.'  The  afterpiece  being  one  I  had  seen  before,  I 
thought  I  should  much  better  employ  the  remainder  of  this  even- 
ing in  writing  home.  I  have  beheld  Belvidera  herself  to-night. 
It  is  the  fourth  time  I  have  seen  this  play  and  by  very  far  the  best. 
Kemble  was  uncommonly  animated  in  Pierre.  I  think  the  scene 
of  the  Senate  and  that  between  him  and  Jaffier  afterwards  were 
inimitable.  The  words  of  Aufidius  seemed  exactly  to  apply  to 
him  :  — 

Thy  face 

Bears  a  command  in't;  tho'  thy  tackle's  torn 
Thou  show'st  a  noble  vessel. 

"  I  like  him  equally  well  with  Cooke,  but  I  think  it  is  hardly 
right  to  draw  a  comparison  between  them,  as  the  line  of  char- 
acters they  each  excel  in  is  quite  different.  Kemble  could  not 
play  Sir  Pertinax  like  Cooke,  nor  could  the  latter  perform  Pierre 
or  Coriolanus  like  Kemble.  I  saw  Mrs.  Siddons  about  a  week 
ago  in  the  '  Grecian  Daughter,'  in  which  character  I  have  sent 


176 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


you  a  drawing  of  her.  She  played  the  character  as  well  as  pos- 
sible, though  it  is  not  a  play  that  I  like  much.  It  appears  to  me 
to  be  one  of  those  works  which  you  cannot  find  fault  with,  and 
yet  has  no  striking  beauties.  Young  played  Evander  extremely 
well,  and  Charles  Kemble  Dionysius.  The  scenery,  dresses,  &c, 
were  very  splendid  and  perfectly  classical.  The  afterpiece  was 
the  '  Secret  Mine,'  a  foolish  melodrame  they  have  got  up  for  the 
sake  of  exhibiting  the  horses.  The  scenery,  &c,  were  as  usual 
very  superb.  They  are  performing  this  piece  again  to-night, 
which  caused  me  to  come  away,  for  I  never  wish  to  see  anything 
after  a  tragedy  excepting  a  good  broad  farce. 

"  I  have  sent  you  two  other  drawings,  one  of  Young  as  Rolla, 
and  the  other  Liston  as  Diego  in  '  The  Virgins  of  the  Sun.' 
They  are  thought  to  be  pretty  good  likenesses.  Liston  is  the  first 
comic  performer  at  Covent  Garden.  He  is  equivalent  to  Jefferson 
with  us.  The  moment  he  comes  on,  the  whole  house  begins  to 
roar  with  laughter. 

"  I  have  just  begun  to  copy  a  small  picture  of  Mr.  West's  of 
'  Arethusa  Bathing ; '  it  is  a  most  beautiful  thing ;  when  it  is 
finished  I  shall  endeavour  to  send  it  over,  together  with  a  design 
I  intend  making.  Mr.  West  gave  Morse  and  myself  a  recom- 
mendation to  the  British  Museum,  which  we  delivered  this  morn- 
ing, and  shall  go  there  in  a  day  or  two  to  commence  drawing.  I 
have  just  finished  a  half-length  portrait  of  Mrs.  Visscher,  an 
American  lady,  whom  I  mentioned  in  a  former  letter  as  looking 
so  much  like  Anna.  I  have  also  begun  to  paint  Miss  Smythe,  a 
daughter  of  Mr.  Maxwell's,  whom  I  also  mentioned. 

"  This  young  lady  is  governess  in  a  family,  and  owing  to  her 
engagements  through  the  week,  she  can  only  sit  to  me  on  Sun- 
days; her  portrait  therefore  will  proceed  but  slowly.  She  has 
many  accomplishments,  among  which,  her  drawing  very  well  is 
not  the  least.  She  is  a  beautiful  girl,  and  appears  to  be  very 
amiable. 

"  I  have  two  acquaintances  that  I  believe  I  did  not  mention  in 
my  former  list,  Collard  and  Lonsdale.  The  first  is  a  musician 
and  a  partner  in  the  house  of  Clementi  and  Co.,  from  whom 
Bradford  imports  pianos.  He  is  a  man  of  excellent  sense,  though 
generally  so  facetious  that  one  feels  inclined  to  laugh  at  every- 


1812.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


177 


thing  he  says.  Lonsdale  is  a  portrait  painter,  though  rather 
mediocre  in  his  profession.  He  is,  however,  excellent  company 
—  a  good  deal  like  Collard  in  his  maimer.  They  are  both 
Englishmen,  so  you  see  I  am  not  altogether  among  Americans 
here.  We  frequently  have  evening  parties  composed  of  these  two 
gentlemen,  Allston,  King,  Morse,  and  myself ;  sometimes  at  their 
respective  houses  and  sometimes  at  ours.  In  this  circle  my  time 
always  passes  delightfully. 

"  The  Exhibition  at  Somerset  House  has  just  opened.  I  went 
there  the  first  day  ;  but  the  rooms  were  so  crowded  I  could  not 
enjoy  it  at  all  —  I  shall  go  again  soon.  Lawrence's  portrait  of 
Kemble  in  '  Cato,'  is  very  fine,  and  the  best  likeness  I  have  ever 
seen  of  him.  He  is  seated  in  his  study  with  a  scroll  in  his  hand, 
and  his  dagger  lying  on  the  table.  His  eyes  are  raised,  and  he 
appears  to  be  just  exclaiming,  '  It  must  be.  so  —  Plato,  thou  rea- 
son'st  well.'  There  are  a  great  number  of  other  fine  portraits  by 
Lawrence  and  Sir  William  Beechey.  Mr.  West  has  only  two 
pictures  there,  *  Saul  Prophesying,'  and  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Wilmot, 
who  settled  the  claims  of  the  American  Loyalists.  There  is  a 
grand  Landscape  by  Turner,*  representing  a  scene  in  the  Alps  in 
a  snow  storm,  with  Hannibal's  army  crossing ;  but  as  this  picture 
is  placed  very  low,  I  could  not  see  it  at  the  proper  distance,  owing 
to  the  crowd  of  people.  Allston  says  it  is  a  wonderfully  fine 
thing :  he  thinks  Turner  the  greatest  painter  since  the  days  of 
Claude.  I  intend  soon  going  to  his  gallery  which  is  now  just 
opened.  There  is  also  a  large  picture  of  '  Christ  Blessing  Chil- 
dren,' by  Trumbull,f  but  I  do  not  like  it  —  his  Scripture  pieces 
are,  I  think,  very  far  inferior  to  his  battles.  The  number  of  pic- 
tures amount  to  940  at  this  Exhibition.  In  the  model-room  there 
is  a  bust  of  Mr.  West,  by  Mr.  Nollekens,  I  think  the  best  likeness 
I  ever  saw  of  him. 

"  I  frequently  see  an  old  beggar,  without  legs,  in  Holborn,  who 
was  one  of  the  rioters  at  the  time  Newgate  was  burnt,  and  had 
both  his  legs  shot  by  a  chain-shot  in  that  very  street.    He  was 

*  Now  in  the  Turner  Gallery,  South  Kensington. 

f  Col.  Trumbull,  an  American  painter,  and  during  the  War  of  Independence 
a  member  of  General  Washington's  staff,  some  of  whose  battle-pieces  ornament 
the  Capitol  at  Washington. 

12 


178 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


afterwards  condemned  to  be  hung,  but  pardoned  on  account  of  his 
maimed  condition.  I  dare  say  mother  or  you  may  recollect  seeing 
this  man.  I  am  told  his  body  is  remarkably  fine,  and  that  he  has 
frequently  sat  to  artists  —  very  often  to  Mr.  West. 

"  When  I  called  on  Mr.  West  the  other  day,  I  asked  him  to 
let  me  make  an  outline  from  his  great  picture  to  send  to  you.  I 
told  him  what  a  miserable  thing  they  had  in  America.  He  said 
the  etching  by  Heath  was  now  made,  and  I  am  in  hopes  I  shall 
be  able  to  procure  one  of  them  through  his  interest. 

"  He  told  me  he  had  one  or  two  small  pictures  that  he  was  fin- 
ishing out  of  the  way,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  done  he  would 
go  to  work  immediately  on  the  picture  for  America,  and  not  quit 
it  until  he  finished  it,  which  could  be  by  next  autumn." 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  6th  August,  1812. 
"The  news  has  just  arrived  of  the  declaration  of  war;  and  as 
there  is  an  embargo  laid  on  all  American  vessels  that  have  not 
licenses,  this  will  probably  be  the  last  opportunity  I  shall  have  of 
writing  for  some  time.  I  am  in  hopes,  however,  that  as  affairs 
between  the  two  countries  have  at  length  advanced  to  a  crisis, 
they  will  be  more  speedily  settled  in  some  way  or  other,  and  we 
shall  be  relieved  from  the  state  of  uncertainty  that  has  so  long 
existed.  The  interruption  of  our  correspondence  will  be  a  dread- 
ful thing  to  me,  but  I  must  bear  it  as  well  as  I  can,  in  hopes  that 
the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  the  intercourse  will  be  opened 
much  more  freely  than  ever,  when  our  country  shall  have  inspired 
some  respect  by  its  decisive  and  firm  measures.  I  have  almost 
finished  my  picture  of  i  Timon,'  and  have  considerably  advanced 
with  one  of  '  Hercules  reclining  on  his  Club,'  from  the  famous 
statue.  It  will  be  the  largest  figure  I  have  painted  ;  I  am  copy- 
ing it  from  a  small  cast  (the  same  as  that  in  the  Academy)  and 
have  a  living  model  to  colour  it  from.  They  have  a  very  fine 
cast  from  the  original  at  Somerset  House,  which  is  colossal,  I 
suppose  twelve  feet  high. 

"  I  intend  making  drawings  from  that  to  finish  my  hands  and 


1812.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


179 


feet  from.  I  believe  I  mentioned  to  you  before  that  Allston  was 
about  a  large  picture  (the  dead  man  revived  by  touching  the 
bones  of  Elisha).  Mr.  West  called  on  him  the  other  day  to  see 
it,  and  was  quite  astonished.  *  Why,  sir,'  he  exclaimed,  '  this  re- 
minds me  of  the  fifteenth  century  ;  you  have  been  studying  in 
the  highest  schools  of  art.'  He  added,  *  There  are  eyes  in  this 
country  that  will  be  able  to  see  so  much  excellence ; '  and  then, 
turning  round,  he  saw  a  head  Allston  had  modelled  in  clay  for 
one  of  his  figures,  and  asked  what  it  was,  taking  it  to  be  an  an- 
tique. Allston  told  him  it  was  one  of  his,  at  which,  after  exam- 
ining it  carefully,  he  said  there  was  not  a  sculptor  in  England 
could  do  anything  like  it.  He  did  not  find  fault  with  any  part  of 
the  picture,  but  merely  suggested  the  introduction  of  another 
figure. 

"  I  never  was  more  delighted  in  my  life  than  when  I  heard 
this  praise  coming  from  Mr.  West,  and  so  perfectly  agreeing  with 
my  own  opinion  of  Allston.  He  has  been  in  high  spirits  ever 
since,  and  his  picture  has  advanced  amazingly  rapid  for  these  two 
or  three  days.  He  intends  sending  it  to  the  exhibition  of  the 
British  Gallery,  where  it  will  no  doubt  obtain  the  prize  of  400 
guineas,  besides  which  he  will  have  an  opportunity  of  selling  it. 
I  have  just  heard  that  David  has  finished  the  most  excellent  like- 
ness of  Bonaparte  that  ever  was  painted,  and  that  that  monarch 
intends  sending  it  to  the  Prince  Regent.  He  is  represented  just 
rising  from  his  chair  to  go  to  bed,  and  looking  at  a  clock,  the 
hand  of  which  points  to  four  in  the  morning  ;  before  him  is  a 
table  covered  with  papers,  mathematical  instruments,  &c.  It  is 
said  that  the  countenance  possesses  the  minutest  shades  of  his 
character.  This  is  the  account  one  person  gives  of  it,  but  I  am 
told  others  say  it  is  not  at  all  like  him.  I  suppose  the  Prince 
means  to  send  his  in  return.  Lucien  Bonaparte,  who  has  been 
ordered  out  of  this  country,  I  am  told,  wants  to  go  to  America, 
and  has  offered  to  present  his  collection  of  pictures  to  the  gov- 
ernment there,  to  establish  a  National  Gallery.  Allston,  who 
has  seen  it,  says  it  is  quite  an  indifferent  collection. 

"  Morse  and  I  find  ourselves  very  comfortable  in  our  new  lodg- 
ings, and  I  hope  we  shall  not  change  again  very  soon.  Our  land- 
lady has  a  very  pretty  daughter,  which  is  one  very  great  recom- 


180 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


mendation  to  her  lodgings.  By  the  bye,  we  shall  not  now  be 
able  to  hear  of  King's  arrival  very  soon.  If  he  delivers  the 
letter  I  gave  him  to  mother,  I  hope  you  will  all  show  him  a  good 
deal  of  attention,  as  he  was  a  very  great  friend  to  me  here.  I 
am  sure  you  will  like  him,  for  he  is  very  agreeable,  has  read  a 
good  deal,  and,  from  the  opportunities  I  have  had  of  judging, 
I  think  he  has  an  excellent  heart  as  well  as  head.  He  will 
be  able  to  give  you  a  good  account  of  me,  of  the  manner  in 
which  I  live,  &c.  There  is  one  quality  that  I  found  in  King 
which  pleased  me  much,  because  it  is  a  scarce  one,  he  does  not 
Jlatter. 

"  I  am  now  reading  Telemachus  again,  and  intend  to  paint 
some  subjects  from  it.  These  subjects  are  much  more  advanta- 
geous for  me  to  paint  than  those  from  Gothic  poems  such  as  Scott's, 
because  I  have  an  opportunity  of  making  parts  of  my  figures 
naked,  and  I  am  now  studying  the  human  form  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. It  was  for  this  reason  that  I  chose  '  Timon  of  Athens ' 
and  '  Hercules.'  I  intend,  in  the  next  picture  I  paint,  to  follow 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  advice,  and  take  all  my  figures  from  Michael 
Angelo's  works,  altering  some  of  them  slightly  ;  or  perhaps  con- 
sidering them  as  statues,  and  taking  other  views  of  them,  and  I 
think  I  shall  also  model  some  of  them  in  clay.  Sir  J.  says  that 
by  this  means  you  imperceptibly  acquire  a  habit  of  thinking  like 
him  from  whom  you  select  your  figures,  and  that  when  you  come 
to  introduce  one  of  your  own  in  the  picture  it  will-  necessarily 
partake  somewhat  of  the  grandeur  of  the  others.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  sculptors  consider  it  a  valuable  lesson  to  supply  the 
limbs  of  the  Torso.  Speaking  of  this  noble  fragment,  many 
people  think  that  it  was  made  by  Michael  Angelo  and  buried,  but 
I  think  it  hardly  probable  that  had  it  been  so,  that  great  man 
Avould  have  kept  it  so  profound  a  secret. 

"  It  is  very  certain  that  he  studied  it  intensely,  and  the  resem- 
blance his  manner  has  to  something  in  that  6  mass  of  breathing 
stone,'  was  much  more  probably  the  result  of  his  studies  from  it, 
than  given  to  it  by  him." 

The  fashion  of  the  day  in  art  was  classical.  *  The  Antique,' 
'  the  Nude,'  <  High  Art,'  and  '  Michael  Angelo,'  were  dinned  into 


1812.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


181 


the  ears  of  the  student.  Leslie  began  with  a  boy's  belief  in  the 
orthodoxy  of  these  doctrines ;  and  was  as  yet  without  a  suspicion, 
apparently,  that  a  painter's  style  and  subject  must  be  determined 
by  the  painter's  own  bent  and  capacity.  This  was  the  period  at 
which,  as  he  tells  us  in  his  lectures,  he  considered  Mr.  West  equal 
to  Raffaelle.  In  deference  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  we  have 
seen  him  beginning  with  the  classical  subjects  of  i  Timon '  and 
'  Hercules.'  The  following  letters  are  illustrative  of  the  implicit- 
ness with  which  Leslie  at  first  accepted  the  fashionable  faith  in 
the  matter  of  his  art,  and  of  his  sincere  youthful  veneration  for 
West,  who  treated  him,  as  he  did  all  young  artists,  with  genuine 
kindness,  all  the  greater,  no  doubt  in  Leslie's  case,  for  his  Amer- 
ican blood. 

But,  for  all  his  classicality,  and  reverence  for  authority,  Leslie's 
judgment  was  not  quite  asleep,  as  appears  from  his  criticism  on 
Westall  in  the  following  letter. 

London,  Sept.  Uth,  1812. 

Dear  Betsey,  —  I  was  much  disappointed  at  not  hearing 
what  effect  the  rescinding  of  the  orders  in  council  had  in  America. 
It  is  fully  expected  here  that  an  amicable  adjustment  will  take 
place.  Mr.  Morse  has  been  in  the  country  for  this  week  past ; 
and  in  my  solitary  situation,  a  letter  from  you  would  have  been 
the  greatest  possible  treat  to  me.  As  soon  as  he  returns,  we 
shall  take  a  little  trip  to  Hampton  Court,  Windsor,  &c. 

I  have  finished  my  pictures  of  '  Timon  '  and  '  Hercules,'  and 
am  now  painting  a  portrait  (Mr.  West  of  Salem,  Massachusetts) 
and  one  of  Mr.  Inskeep.  The  head  of  the  former,  which  is 
finished,  Allston  says  is  by  far  the  best  thing  I  have  done.  I 
have  been  to  Westall's  house  to  look  at  his  pictures  ;  you  recol- 
lect Sully  told  me  I  should  find  some  clever  things  amongst 
them,  and  indeed  I  was  much  pleased  with  many  parts  of  his 
works,  and  fancied  that  he  showed  the  feeling  of  a  poet  in  many 
of  his  inventions. 

But  I,  no  doubt,  often  admired  when  I  should  have  condemned, 
for  his  style  is  very  specious  and  imposing,  and  I  have  frequently 
found  that  when  I  have  been  dazzled  at  first  sight  by  the  gaudi- 
ness  of  his  colouring,  upon  looking  into  the  picture  I  have  been 


182 


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[1812. 


astonished  at  his  want  of  real  science.  In  his  flesh,  though  very 
unequal,  he  seems  always  at  the  same  distance  from  nature.  He 
is  either  too  hot,  too  cold,  too  red,  too  gray,  or  too  yellow.  Some 
of  his  figures,  particularly  children,  appear  to  have  their  deepest 
shadows  made  of  vermilion  alone,  others  have  so  great  a  propor- 
tion of  gray  or  blue  tints  that  one  almost  freezes  to  look  at  them. 
When  free  from  other  faults  his  flesh  often  inclines  too  much  to 
purple.  I  should  call  him  a  mannerist  in  every  part  of  his  art. 
He  is  mannered  where  it  is  the  least  pardonable,  in  the  character 
and  air  of  his  heads,  and  in  the  grace  of  his  figures  ;  dreadfully 
so  hi  his  draperies,  which  all  appear  carved  from  stone. 

His  faults  seem  to  arise  chiefly  from  a  wish  to  improve  upon 
nature,  not  knowing  that  what  generally  goes  by  the  name  of 
improving  upon  nature,  is  nothing  more  than  being  able  to  select 
all  that  is  good  from  her,  and  that  to  obtain  this  end  the  artist 
cannot  have  too  much  intercourse  with  her.  Now  he  seems  to 
attempt  it  by  avoiding  her  as  much  as  possible.  His  style  of 
painting  is  showy,  and  perhaps  pleasing  to  those  who  are  not  in 
the  habit  of  thinking  when  they  look  at  a  picture  :  —  but  to  those 
of  real  taste  (which  Sir  Joshua  says,  '  is  nothing  more  than  an 
appetite  for  truth '),  his  pictures  must  seem  meretricious,  and  in- 
stead of  possessing  only  those  casual  faults  which  are  to  be  met 
with  in  every  work  of  art,  appear  to  be  built  entirely  upon  a 
foundation  of  error.  The  consequence  is,  that  as  his  figures 
have  a  kind  of  fashionable  appearance,  they  will  please  a  few 
as  long  as  the  present  fashions  last,  and  then  be  forgotten.  While 
painting  Mr.  West's  portrait,  I  called  to  see  Owen's  pictures,  who 
stands  very  high  as  a  portrait  painter.  He  has  not  so  much  skill 
as  Lawrence  in  the  drawing  of  his  heads,  nor  is  he  so  happy  in 
improving  their  expression,  but  he  certainly  colours  better,  and 
the  subordinate  parts  of  his  pictures,  his  draperies,  &c,  are  paint- 
ed with  more  truth.  I  find  it  a  great  advantage  to  me  to  go  thus 
constantly  to  the  houses  of  artists  and  look  at  their  pictures,  par- 
ticularly when  I  am  about  anything  of  the  same  kind  myself.  I 
expect  Mr.  West  will  make  me  some  compensation  for  painting 
him,  and  whatever  he  gives  me  I  shall  lay  out  in  buying  a  collec- 
tion of  prints,  particularly  the  heads  of  Van  Dyk  and  Sir  Joshua. 

I  suppose  the  last  volumes  of  Miss  Edgeworth's  i  Tales  '  have 


1812.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


183 


not  yet  appeared  in  America.  I  have  just  read  one  of  them  con- 
taining i  Vivian,?  and  I  need  only  say  that  I  think  it  quite  equal 
to  any  other  of  her  works  to  give  you  an  idea  of  its  excellence. 
There  are  two  other  volumes  which  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to 
get  from  the  library.  If  you  have  not  already  got  them  I  know 
it  will  gratify  you  to  hear  of  their  appearance  in  the  present 
dearth  of  anything  good  in  the  book  way.  By  the  bye,  it  is  said 
Walter  Scott  is  just  going  to  publish  another  poem  ;  what  it  is  I 
have  not  heard. 

I  have  not  been  for  some  time  at  any  of  the  theatres.  Covent 
Garden  is  again  opened,  but  as  they  have  lost  Mrs.  Siddons  and 
Kemble,  I  feel  very  little  inclination  to  go  there.  My  hopes  now 
rest  on  Drury  Lane,  which  is  to  open  next  month,  and  which  will, 
I  suppose,  totally  eclipse  its  "  huge  classical  rival "  as  they  have 
engaged  both  Kemble  and  Elliston.  I  have  been  to  Sadler's 
Wells  to  see  the  Aquatic  scene,  that  is  so  much  talked  of.  Ex- 
cepting by  Grimaldi  (the  clown),  I  was  very  little  entertained.  I 
take  but  little  delight  in  pantomime  changes,  which,  to  do  them 
justice,  they  manage  here  in  the  greatest  perfection.  The  after- 
piece was  a  melodrama,  the  dialogue  of  which  was  in  blank  verse, 
with  now  and  then  a  foolish  rhyme  coming  out  in  order  to  call  it 
recitative.*  The  water  scene  pleased  me  better  than  I  expected, 
it  represented  a  castle  with  a  moat  and  drawbridge ;  the  castle  of 
course  attacked  by  troops  who  came  on  in  boats.  Many  of  the 
combatants  contrived  to  get  themselves  into  the  water  by  the 
breaking  of  the  drawbridge,  where  they  fought  up  to  their  chins. 
This  theatre  is  quite  small,  and  ornamented  in  the  most  showy 
manner,  with  a  plentiful  lack  of  taste.  I  lately  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  their  mightiness  the  mob  in  all  their  glory  at  Bartholo- 
mew Fair,  and  really  such  a  scene  of  riot  and  confusion  I  never 
before  beheld.    *    *  * 

"  When  the  news  of  Lord  Wellington's  victory  at  Salamanca 
arrived,  there  were  universal  illuminations  for  several  nights.  I 
did  not,  however,  go  to  any  of  the  public  buildings  where  I  might 
have  seen  them  in  their  greatest  perfection.  I  am  now  sorry 
I  did  not  go  to  the  Admiralty,  where  the  standards  were  dis- 

*  This  was  necessary,  to  evade  the  penalties  for  infringement  of  the  patent 
right  of  the  two  great  Theatres. 


184 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


played  that  were  taken  from  the  enemy.  Had  I  gone  out  on 
those  nights,  I  should  have  seen  the  mobility  in  their  highest 
glory.  Mr.  Inskeep  and  another  gentleman,  passing  Somerset 
House,  in  a  hackney-coach,  were  made  to  pull  off  their  hats,  and 
not  content  with  this,  the  rabble  forced  open  the  coach  door,  and 
threw  in  squibs,  &c,  until  they  set  fire  to  the  straw  in  the  bottom. 

Mr.  Inskeep  had  one  of  his  whiskers  burnt  off  (what  a  loss  !) 
and  was  struck  on  the  breast  by  a  fire-brand  which,  "  dismal  hor- 
ror to  relate,"  burnt  through  his  waistcoat.  I  am  told,  that  one 
of  their  civilest  tricks  was  firing  off  a  pistol  between  the  heads  of 
any  two  well-dressed  people  that  happened  to  be  walking  together. 
In  Fitzroy  Square,  opposite  to  us,  they  had  a  cannon  which  they 
kept  constantly  firing,  with  lesser  accompaniments  on  the  blunder- 
buss, pistols,  &c,  to  our  great  amusement.  Captain  and  Mrs. 
Visscher  have  sailed  about  a  week  ago  for  America.  Morse  and 
myself  feel  their  loss  very  much,  as  they  were  extremely  atten- 
tive and  kind  to  us.  If  they  may  be  taken  as  a  sample  of  the 
New  England  people,  I  am  inclined  to  have  a  much  better  opin- 
ion of  them  than  I  ever  had  before. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allston  are  the  only  friends  we  have  left  that  are 
very  near  us,  and  if  I  were  to  lose  the  society  of  Mr.  Allston,  I 
should  not  wish  to  remain  any  longer  in  England.  Since  Morse 
has  been  among  us  he  {%.  e.  Allston)  has  very  kindly  spent  every 
evening  with  me.  He  is  advancing  very  rapidly  with  his  large  pic- 
ture and  will  be  able  to  exhibit  it  in  the  British  Institution  next 
year,  where  it  will,  no  doubt,  obtain  the  prize  of  400  guineas,  be- 
sides standing  a  good  chance  of  its  being  sold.  Sir  George  Beau- 
mont (one  of  the  first  connoisseurs  of  the  day,  and  who  is  in  fact  an 
excellent  artist  himself),  having  seen  the  outline,  wrote  to  Mr. 
Allston  a  very  complimentary  letter  from  his  country  seat,  and 
concluded  by  requesting  him  to  paint  a  small  picture  of  some 
church,  for  which  he  offered  him  200Z.  Mr.  Brown  (whom,  I 
believe,  I  mentioned  in  a  former  letter)  has  been  very  attentive 
to  Morse  and  myself.  He  mentioned  to  me,  the  last  time  I 
saw  him,  that  he  should  like  me  to  spend  a  few  days  at  Snares- 
brook,  and  paint  Mrs.  Brown  and  her  dog,  which  is  a  great 
favourite,  as  they  have  no  children.  The  last  time  I  dined  there, 
I  met  Mr.  Zantzinger,  a  brother  to  J.  Barton.    He  told  me  he 


1812.]  LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE.  ISiy 

had  my  plate  of  Blisset  and  Jefferson,*  which  he  would  show  me, 
but  I  have  not  yet  called  on  him.  I  have  become  acquainted  with 
a  Mr.  Coate,  from  Montreal.  He  is  originally  from  Philadelphia, 
and  is  related  to  the  Cotes'  family,  though  he  spells  his  name 
differently.  He  has  been  a  clergyman  and  has  travelled  among 
the  Indians  as  a  missionary,  but  being  of  a  consumptive  habit  he 
was  obliged  to  give  up  preaching,  and  is  here  publishing  a  num- 
ber of  specimens  of  ornamental  penmanship,  which  indeed,  are 
the  most  elegant  things  of  the  kind  I  ever  saw.  He  brought  out 
letters  to  many  of  the  nobility,  Sir  Wm.  Beechey  has  particularly 
interested  himself  in  obtaining  him  subscribers,  and  Mr.  West  has 
been  a  great  friend  to  him.  He  obtained  permission  for  Morse 
and  myself  to  look  at  a  very  fine  collection  of  pictures,  which 
are  about  to  be  sold.  Among  them  is  one  of  the  finest  of 
Claude's  landscapes,  two  very  fine  Titians,  several  Guidos,  a 
Portrait  and  a  Madonna  by  Van  Dyk,  a  large  Rubens,  and  a 
number  of  small  Flemish  paintings,  a  '  Danae '  by  Corrcggio, 
and  a  great  number  of  other  pictures. 

This  Mr.  Coate  lives  in  Warren  Street,  which  is  very  near  us. 
He  appears  to  be  a  very  friendly,  good-hearted,  pleasant  man. 

Farewell. 

During  this  year  Leslie  and  his  friend  Morse  were  lodged  to- 
gether at  No.  8,  Buckingham  Place,  Fitzroy  Square,  in  "  the  very 
centre  of  almost  all  the  artists  in  London,"  to  which  Leslie  re- 
moved from  his  first  lodgings  in  Warren  Street,  in  the  same 
neighbourhood. 

London,  Sep.  29,  1812. 
"  Dear  Betsey,  —  Mr.  West  has  kindly  consented  to  take 
charge  of  my  i  Hercules '  and  '  Timon  of  Athens,'  which  I  have 
sent  with  his  own  portrait  to  Mr.  Bradford,  and  which  I  suppose 
will  be  in  the  next  exhibition.  I  called  a  few  days  since,  with 
the  portrait  of  Mr.  West  and  the  '  Hercules,'  on  Sir  Wm. 
Beechey,  who  is  extremely  kind  in  giving  advice  to  young  artists. 
However,  I  must  say  I  received  very  little  encouragement  from 


*  Portraits  painted  by  Leslie  in  Philadelphia  (  V) 


186 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1812. 


him,  as  he  pointed  out  innumerable  faults,  and  not  one  part  in 
which  I  had  succeeded.  He  looked  principally  at  the  portrait,  as 
the  other  was  not  so  much  in  his  line  of  painting.  Sir  William 
is  extremely  open  and  candid  even  to  bluntness.  He  told  me 
when  I  was  coming  away,  that  whenever  I  wanted  another  set 
down  he  would  be  very  happy  to  accommodate  me.  I  shall 
certainly  call  frequently  on  him,  although  I  must  confess  I  felt 
somewhat  dispirited,  yet  I  consider  it  very  wholesome  chastise- 
ment, and  am  certain  that  I  shall  benefit  much  from  it. 

Allston  tells  me  that  when  he  was  in  England  before,  he 
showed  a  picture  to  Sir  William,  who  said  to  him,  "  Sir,  that  is 
not  flesh  but  mud ;  it  is  as  much  mud  as  if  you  had  taken  it  out 
of  the  kennel  and  painted  your  picture."  *  *  I  afterwards  took 
my  picture  to  Mr.  West,  from  whom  I  received  more  encourage- 
ment, for  though  he  pointed  out  a  great  many  errors  in  my  '  Her- 
cules,' he  gave  me  praise  for  the  left  leg  and  foot.  If  Tom,  his 
still  surviving  brother,  is  present  at  the  unpacking  of  my  pictures, 
he  will  perceive  on  the  back  of  '  Hercules '  a  ball  drawn  by  Mr. 
West  himself,  who  was  explaining  to  me  his  principle  for  the 
light  and  shadow  and  colour,  and  by  this  simple  diagram  he  can 
assign  his  reasons  for  the  arrangement  of  every  part  of  his  im- 
mense pictures.  Mr.  West  kept  me  for  several  hours  while  he 
illustrated  all  he  said  in  the  clearest  manner  by  constantly  recur- 
ring to  nature.  I  really  pitied  the  poor  porter  who  carried  my 
pictures  there,  and  whom  Mr.  West  used  as  a  model,  placing  him 
in  various  lights,  and  poking  at  him  with  his  mahl-stick  to  point 
out  the  different  effects  of  light  and  shadow  upon  him. 

He  directed  me  how  I  might  alter  my  '  Hercules '  to  the  best 
advantage,  and  I  worked  on  it  till  the  very  day  it  was  packed 
up.  *  *  *  I  am  going  to  paint  another  '  Hercules  '  for  Mr.  Coate, 
who  has  offered  to  pay  for  my  models,  canvasses,  &c. 

I  have  finished  his  portrait,  Which  is  thought  extremely  like, 
and  I  am  now  about  one  of  Mr.  Earle,  and  a  small  one  of  my- 
self, which  will,  I  think,  be  like.  Mr.  West  gave  me  six  pounds 
for  his  picture  which  I  have  laid  out  in  prints  of  Van  Dyk's 
and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  portraits,  and  a  few  from  Raphael. 
Among  the  Sir  Joshuas  are  Ins  '  Mrs.  Siddons  as  the  Tragic 
Muse,'  and   his  'Infant  Academy,'  two  of  his  finest  works. 


1813.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


187 


Among  the  Raphaels  is  his  '  Incendio  del  Borgo/  which  Sir 
Joshua  speaks  of  in  his  Lectures. 

1813. 

.    Pictures  Painted  this  Year. 

Murder:  Macbeth,  Act  IL,  Scene  1.  —  Portrait  of  Mr.  Emlen,  of  Phila- 
delphia.   (Exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy.) 

The  following  letters  for  this  year  need  no  introduction  or  con- 
necting remark.  What  Leslie  says  in  that  of  May  of  the  neces- 
sity that  a  picture  should  tell  some  scriptural  or  classic  story  in 
order  to  insure  it  "  currency,"  shows  the  cramping  influence  of 
the  conventionalism  of  that  day.  One  may  remark  too  on  the 
rise,  shown  by  the  letters  of  this  year,  in  the  level  of  the  painter's 
studies.  The  eighteen-year-old  lad  of  last  year  was  content  with 
his  subscription  to  the  Bond  Street  circulating  library.  He  tells 
his  sister  only  of  the  novels  he  is  reading.  This  year  his  studies 
lie  in  Homer,  Milton,  and  Dante,  among  the  poets  ;  while  Smol- 
lett and  Swift  are  his  prose  authors.  Then,  too,  he  has  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Coleridge.  With  such  books  and  such  compan- 
ionship it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  we  find  Leslie  at  nineteen 
ripening  gradually  into  juster  appreciation  both  of  the  painters 
and  the  Art-maxims  of  the  day. 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  Feb.  25,  1813. 
Your  letter  by  the  '  Catharine  Ray '  came  duly  to  hand,  and 
was  doubly  welcome  to  me,  as  I  had  not  heard  from  you  for  a 
very  long  time.  I  rejoice  to  hear  you  like  King  so  well,  and  I 
sincerely  hope  he  will  get  business  in  Philadelphia.  I  think  his 
close  intimacy  with  Sully  will  be  of  very  great  advantage  to  him. 
You  will  perceive  that  King's  greatest  excellence  is  in  his  colour- 
ing of  flesh.  His  drawing  is  very  correct,  and  his  heads  are  gen- 
erally very  like ;  but  they  have  not  always  a  happiness  of  ex- 


188 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1313. 


pression,  and  his  attitudes  generally  want  ease.  Now  in  these 
two  points  Sully  is  very  excellent,  and  as  they  are  not  to  be 
imparted  by  rules,  King  will  be  more  likely  to  acquire  a  feeling 
for  them  by  having  pictures  that  possess  them  constantly  before 
him  than  he  would  by  any  other  means.  He  is  also  deficient  in 
the  management  of  draperies,  which  Sully  paints  very  beauti- 
fully. Since  Mr.  Inskeep's  picture  I  have  begun  a  picture  for 
the  Exhibition  at  Somerset  House.  I  scarcely  know  what  name 
to  give  it,  but  the  subject  was  suggested  by  these  lines  from 
Shakespeare  :  — 

 now  wither' d  Murder 

Alarum'd  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
Who  howls  his  watch,  thus  with  his  stealthy  pace, 
With  Tarquin's  ravishing  stride,  towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost  . 

I  have  represented  an  assassin  stealing  from  a  cave  at  midnight, 
with  a  drawn  sword  in  one  hand,  and  holding  his  breath  with  the 
other.  The  horizon  is  formed  by  the  sea,  and  the  moon,  just 
rising,  illuminates  the  distance  and  middle  ground,  while  the 
figure  is  quite  in  shadow  against  the  light  sky  and  sea.  All  the 
foreground  is  also  in  shadow,  produced  by  a  projection  of  the  rock. 
I  have  modelled  a  head  in  clay  for  my  figure,  and  made  a  small 
sketch  of  the  whole.  The  picture  will  be  the  same  size  as  my 
'  Hercules.'  As  it  will  be  necessary  to  send  it  to  the  Academy  in 
the  beginning  of  April,  and  I  wish  to  bestow  every  possible  pains 
on  it,  it  will  occupy  every  moment  of  time  till  that  period.  Morse 
and  I  intend  going  to  Hampton  Court  as  soon  as  we  have  sent 
our  pictures  in,  and  Allston  having  promised  to  accompany  us,  we 
shall  have  a  very  pleasant  little  jaunt.  The  exhibition  at  the 
British  Gallery  is  now  open,  and  I  have  been  twice  to  it,  but  as  I 
intend  writing  an  account  of  some  of  the  principal  pictures  to 
King,  who  will  communicate  it  to  you,  I  shall  say  nothing  here 
of  them.  As  soon  as  this  Exhibition  closes,  they  are  to  open  one 
consisting  of  all  the  works  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  in  this  country, 
which  are  to  be  borrowed  for  the  purpose  from  the  different  pos- 
sessors of  them.  I  esteem  myself  particularly  fortunate  that  I  am 
here  at  this  time,  for  if  it  was  not  for  this  collection,  I  should,  no 
doubt,  miss  seeing  a  great  many  of  these  treasures.    I  only  regret 


1813.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


189 


that  my  advancement  is  not  sufficient,  at  present,  for  me  to  profit 
from  them  as  much  as  I  might  hope  to  do  in  a  few  more  years. 

A  new  tragedy  has  appeared  at  Drury  Lane  this  season  called 
1  Remorse,'  though  no  doubt  you  will  have  heard  of,  if  not  re- 
ceived, it  before  you  get  this.  It  is  by  Coleridge,  who  I  believe 
I  have  before  told  you  is  an  intimate  friend  of  Allston's.  As  it  is 
many  years  since  a  tragedy  has  been  received,  and  there  were  no 
very  first-rate  performers  in  this  line  to  support  the  characters, 
the  author  was  not  very  sanguine  in  his  expectations  of  success. 
It  was  received,  however,  with  the  most  rapturous  applause,  and 
has  had  a  very  capital  run.  I  went  to  see  it  the  second  or  third 
night,  and  was  quite  as  well  pleased  with  it  as  I  expected  to  be 
from  the  excellent  accounts  I  had  heard  of  it.  Rae,  who  per- 
formed the  principal  male  character,  I  had  never  seen  before  ;  he 
is  a  young  man,  who  after  playing  with  great  success  at  some  of 
the  provincial  theatres,  made  his  debut  in  London  the  beginning 
of  this  season.  He  is  a  good  actor  and  has  much  judgment,  but 
fails  to  seize  the  feelings  and  carry  one  away  as  Kemble  or  poor 
Cooke  would  have  done.  When  they  were  on  the  stage  it  was 
impossible  to  look  at  or  think  of  any  body  else.  *  Each  of  them 
seemed  to  say  "  I  am  myself  alone ; "  but  this  is  not  the  case 
with  Rae.  Allston  says  the  reason  of  it  is,  that  he  has  not  the 
proper  inflections  of  the  voice.  His  face  appeared  good  for  the 
stage  and  capable  of  great  variety  of  expression  ;  it  seemed  to  me 
to  have  the  character  of  Kemble's,  though  I  was  much  too  far 
off  to  distinguish  his  features,  being  in  the  upper  row  of  boxes. 
His  figure,  as  well  as  I  could  see,  —  it  being  disguised  in  a  bad 
dress,  —  I  thought  good,  though  it  seemed  to  me  to  want  impor- 
tance. It  is  impossible  however  to  judge  of  an  actor  from  only 
once  seeing  him,  and  at  such  a  distance,  and  it  is  therefore  very 
likely  that  upon  a  second  and  better  sight  of  him  I  may  find  my- 
self mistaken  in  many  respects.  Mrs.  Glover  played  Alhadra 
uncommonly  well ;  it  appeared  to  me  to  be  the  most  prominent 
character  in  the  piece.  This  lady  has,  however,  not  a  tragic 
voice,  and  very  far  from  a  tragic  face.  She  was  dressed  well, 
however,  and  is  a  commanding  figure,  though  monstrously  fat. 
Elliston  in  a  Moorish  dress  looked  so  like  Cooper  in  '  Othello,' 
that  had  they  both  been  on  the  stage  I  think  I  should  scarcely 


190 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1813. 


have  known  the  difference.  He  played  Alvar.  As  I  have  very 
little  doubt  that  you  will  have  read  the  tragedy  when  you  get  this, 
I  have  written  as  if  you  were  acquainted  with  the  characters.  I 
have  not  yet  seen  '  Rokeby,'  but  the  truth  is,  I  have  applied 
repeatedly  at  the  library  and  it  is  never  at  home ;  it  is  published 
in  so  expensive  a  form  that  I  cannot  purchase  it. 

March  Sth,  1813. 

As  I  have  just  heard  of  an  opportunity,  I  hasten  to  close  this 
letter.  I  should  have  made  it  much  longer,  but  owing  to  the 
picture  I  have  now  on  hand  at  which  I  am  obliged  to  work  very 
hard,  and  the  lectures  at  the  Academy  where  I  am  a  constant 
attendant,  and  some  other  things  which  I  will  mention  another 
time,  I  am  just  at  present  more  engaged  than  I  ever  have  been 
since  my  residence  here.  Writing  letters  with  me  is  not  a  thing 
that  can  be  done  at  odd  scraps  of  time,  but  I  must  sit  down  and 
compose  myself  to  it  and  collect  all  my  thoughts  about  me. 

Mrs.  Jordan  has  returned  to  the  stage,  and  is  now  playing  at 
Covent  Garden.  Bannister  and  Braham  are  at  Drury  Lane,  and 
they  are  now  performing  some  of  the  finest  comedies  at  both  houses. 
The  opposition  makes  each  one'bring  forth  all  their  best  actors.  I 
have  not  had  time  to  see  either  Mrs.  Jordan  or  Bannister,  and 
think  I  shall  not  until  the  Academy  closes.  Adieu. 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  April  4,  1813. 

****** 
I  expect  to  go  about  the  middle  of  next  week,  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Allston  and  Morse,  upon  a  little  trip  to  Hampton  Court, 
Windsor,  &c,  from  which  we  all  promise  ourselves  much  pleasure. 
I  am  extremely  pleased  with  young  Payne,*  who  is  now  here  ; 
from  what  I  have  seen  of  him,  I  think  him  very  amiable  and 
agreeable,  independently  of  his  talents.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allston 
knew  him  and  all  his  family  very  well  in  America,  and  it  was 

*  Howard  Payne,  for  whose  career,  see  the  Autobiography. 


1813.J 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


191 


with  much  pleasure  that  they  renewed  their  acquaintance  with 
him. 

I  am  going  to  paint  his  portrait  when  I  return  from  Hampton 
Court ;  we  have  already  taken  a  plaster  cast  of  his  face.  I  have 
finished  and  sent  to  Somerset  House  my  picture  from  Shakespeare, 
which  I  described  in  my  last  letter.  A  few  days  before  I  sent  it 
I  took  it  to  Mr.  West.  He  did  me  the  honour  to  praise  it  a  good 
deal,  and  advised  me  by  all  means  to  exhibit  it,  without  which  I 
should  not  have  sent  it.  He  suggested  to  me  to  introduce  the 
wolf,  howling  in  an  obscure-  part  of  the  cave,  which  he  said  was 
necessary  to  mark  the  subject.  He  also  advised  me  to  show  part 
of  the  moon,  which  was  hid  by  a  fragment  of  rock.  Both  these 
things  I  did,  and  upon  showing  it  to  him  again  he  told  me  my 
subject  was  now  complete.  From  the  good  opinion  Mr.  West  ex- 
pressed, I  have  little  doubt  it  will  be  admitted.  My  only  fear  is, 
that  it  will  be  crammed  into  some  obscure  place,  or  lost  amid  the 
blaze  of  pictures  that  crowd  the  great  room.  There  were  last 
year  upwards  of  a  thousand  pictures  exhibited,  and,  I  have  heard, 
about  five  hundred  rejected  that  were  sent  there.  Mr.  West  has 
been  painting  a  picture  for  the  Exhibition  which  nobody  has'  yet 
seen.  For  a  week  past  he  locked  himself  up  entirely,  and  has 
been  denied  to  everybody.  When  I  called  on  him,  the  servant 
told  me  I  could  not  possibly  see  him  ;  but  I  begged  him  to  show 
him  the  picture  and  mention  my  name  ;  that  if  Mr.  West,  could 
not  see  me  then,  I  would  call  in  the  evening.  I  waited  in  his 
gallery,  and  the  old  gentleman  presently  came  out  to  me  with  my 
picture.  He  told  me  that  he  had  shut  himself  up,  but  he  was 
so  well  pleased  with  my  picture  that  he  could  not  help  seeing 
me. 

I  went  a  short  time  ago  to  see  Mrs.  Jordan  in  '  As  You  Like 
It,'  and  was  quite  as  much  pleased  with  her  as  I  expected  ;  in- 
deed, more  so,  for  I  had  been  taught  to  expect  an  immensely  fat 
woman,  and  she  is  but  moderately  so.  Her  face  is  still  very  fine, 
no  print  that  I  ever  saw  of  her  is  much  like.  Her  performance 
of  Rosalind  was  in  my  mind  perfect,  though  I  am  convinced  the 
character  from  its  nature  did  not  call  forth  half  Mrs.  Jordan's 
powers.  I  long  to  see  her  in  the  £  Country  Girl,'  '  Miss  Prue,' 
or  something  of  that  kind.    The  other  characters  were  extremely 


192 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1813. 


well  supported,  particularly  Touchstone  by  Faucett,  and  Audrey 
by  Mrs.  Chas.  Kemble,  who  was  even  superior  to  Mrs.  Francis. 
Young  played  Jacques  very  well,  and  Chas.  Kemble  looked 
Orlando  better  than  he  played  it.  Incledon  played  Amiens, 
and  sung  Ins  songs  delightfully.  He  is  one  of  the  worst  looking 
men  I  ever  saw,  and  has  indeed  completely  the  face  and  figure 
of  a  low  sailor.  He  is  likewise  a  wretched  actor,  and  always  ap- 
pears on  the  stage  with  that  kind  of  awkward  stiffness  that  arises 
from  a  man  being  in  better  company  than  he  is  accustomed  to. 
He  is,  however,  a  very  charming  singer,  and  has  the  most  manly, 
and  at  the  same  time,  agreeable  voice  that  I  ever  heard.  He 
was,  I  am  told,  in  reality  a  common  sailor  originally.  I  have 
also  heard  he  has  other  talents  than  that  of  singing,  and  can  eat 
and  drink  more  at  a  meal  than  any  other  man.  He  was  one  of 
poor  Cooke's  most  intimate  friends.  The  nation  is  at  present  in 
mourning  for  the  Duchess  of  Brunswick.  Fortunately  for  me,  I 
always  wear  black,  so  that  I  am  at  no  trouble  on  the  present 
occasion.  One  of  my  reasons  indeed  for  wearing  it  was,  that  I 
might  be  prepared  for  the  demise  of  the  King,  but  that  I  believe 
is  never  to  happen.  I  have  not  observed  more  black  than  usual 
in  the  streets,  but  I  am  told  in  company  it  is  always  expected. 
The  dress  boxes  at  the  theatres  exhibit  nothing  else.  The 
duchess  was  buried  at  Windsor  (not  in  state),  and  I  missed 
seeing  the  funeral  move  from  her  house  here,  supposing  there 
would  be  no  parade. 

I  have  lately  read  the  '  Mysteries  of  Udolpho '  for  the  first 
time,  and  with  very  great  pleasure.  I  am  now  going  through 
Homer,  Milton,  and  Dante's  works,  which  every  painter  should 
be  well  acquainted  with. 

I  suppose  you  will  not  believe  me  when  I  say  that  I  have  not 
seen  '  Rokeby.'  I  have  applied  incessantly  at  the  library,  but  it 
is  always  out,  and  they  have  constantly  promised  to  send  it  me, 
but  never  have. 

I  have  lately  been  made  a  Student  in  the  Academy,  by  show- 
ing a  chalk  drawing,  a  skeleton,  and  an  anatomical  figure.  I  have 
now  access  to  the  library  every  Monday,  besides  the  privilege  of 
wearing  my  hat  in  the  Academy,  and  coming  in  with  a  greater 
swagger  than  before. 


1813.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


193 


As  the  drawing  Academy  is  at  present  shut,  and  of  course  will 
continue  so  until  the  Exhibition  closes,  I  have  now  resumed 
drawing  at  the  British  Museum  every  Tuesday  and  Thursday 
as  I  did  last  summer.    Remember  to  all  his  friends. 

Your  C.  R.  L. 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  May  6,  1813. 
I  had  written  a  long  letter  to  Jane,  giving  a  detail  of  my  jaunt 
to  Windsor,  Oxford,  and  Blenheim,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allston 
and  Morse.  With  this  party  I  was  out  of  town  about  ten  days, 
and  the  weather  being  uncommonly  fine  made  it  a  very  delightful 
trip. 

Morse's  picture  of  the  '  Hercules/  and  mine  of '  Murder,'  are  in 
very  excellent  situations  at  Somerset  House ;  they  have  already 
been  noticed  in  a  newspaper.  The  exhibition  is  very  good :  the 
greater  part  of  the  pictures  here,  as  usual,  are  portraits.  Mr. 
West  has  but  one  picture,  and  that  is  quite  small.  I  long  to  hear 
how  our  little  Academy  in  Philadelphia  has  got  on  this  year. 
Morse  and  I  have  found,  after  a  good  deal  of  experience,  that 
we  cannot  paint  with  as  much  advantage  both  in  one  room, 
as  we  could  separately ;  and  I  have,  therefore,  hired  a  paint- 
ing-room directly  opposite  to  us. 

It  is  about  twice  the  size  of  Morse's,  and,  being  at  the  back  of 
the  house,  has  of  course  the  same  light.  I  pay  171.  a-year  for  it. 
Since  my  return  from  the  country,  I  have  begun  a  portrait  of 
Payne,  which  promises  to  be  the  best  likeness  I  have  ever 
painted ;  and  one  of  a  Mr.  Emlen,  of  Philadelphia,  who  is 
studying  physic  here.  I  have  lately  been  a  good  deal  in  com- 
pany with  Coleridge,  and  have  had  opportunities  of  seeing  the 
man  as  well  as  the  poet. 

I  really  do  not  know  which  most  to  admire,  the  goodness  of 
his  heart  or  the  soundness  of  his  head.  He  is  a  man  of  the 
most  exquisite  feelings,  which  give  a  cast  of  melancholy  to  his 
character  always  visible  in  his  countenance,  excepting  when  he  is 
carried  away  by  sprightly  conversation.  He  has  greater  collo- 
quial talents  than  I  have  ever  before  met  with,  and  with  the  most 
13 


194 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1813. 


consummate  eloquence,  possessing  all  the  graces  of  conversation, 
he  exhibits  on  every  subject  the  deepest  philosophical  thinking. 
Allston  says,  that  when  in  the  vein  to  exercise  it,  there  are  no 
bounds  to  his  wit.  He  was  secretary  to  Sir  Alexander  Ball, 
governor  of  Malta,  during  the  bombardment  of  Tripoli,  at  which 
place  he  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  many  of  our  naval  officers. 
He  was  particularly  pleased  with  Decatur,  of  whom  he  often 
speaks  in  the  highest  terms  as  a  gentleman  and  a  hero.  I  am  at 
present  hard  set  to  think  of  a  subject  for  a  pretty  large  picture 
that  I  want  to  paint  for  the  next  exhibition.  I  find  that  pictures 
from  modern  poets  do  not  take,  and  even  if  they  should,  it  is 
uncertain  how  long  they  may  continue  in  vogue.  To  insure  a 
picture  currency,  therefore,  it  is  necessary  that  it  should  tell 
either  some  scriptural  or  classic  story.  Even  Shakespeare,  Dante, 
and  Milton,  are  scarcely  sufficiently  canonised  to  be  firm  ground. 

I  have  at  length  read  Scott's  '  Rokeby,'  and  was  of  course  very 
much  pleased  with  it.  I  must,  however,  read  it  again,  for  the 
interest  the  story  excited  made  me  gallop  to  the  end  as  hard  as  I 
could,  and  I  had  not  the  opportunity  to  admire  the  beauties  of 
imagery,  or  observe  the  nicer  shades  of  character  that  a  second 
reading  will  afford  me. 

I  have  lately  read '  Humphrey  Clinker,'  for  the  first  time,  and 
liked  it  exceedingly ;  the  story  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baynard  is 
admirable.  I  have  also  read  Swift's  4  Tale  of  a  Tub,'  and 
'  Battle  with  the  Books,'  with  great  laughter.  I  have  not  been 
at  the  theatre  for  a  long  time  until  a  few  nights  ago,  when  I  went 
to  see  4  Education/  a  new  comedy  by  Morton  ;  and  4  Aladdin,  or 
the  Wonderful  Lamp.'  The  comedy  I  was  not  greatly  pleased 
with,  although  they  had  lugged  into  it  all  the  best  actors.  It 
appeared  to  me  to  be  made  up  from  the  '  Road  to  Ruin '  and  the 
'  Sons  of  Erin.'  '  Aladdin '  is  a  melodrama,  and,  as  you  may 
suppose,  splendid  in  the  extreme.  With  these  kind  of  things 
they  spare  no  expense  at  Covent  Garden. 


1814-16.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


195 


1814. 

Pictures  Exhibited  this  Year. 

The  Woman  of  Endor  Raising  the  Ghost  Samuel  before  Saul.  "  Then 
said  Samuel,  Wherefore  then  dost  thou  ask.  of  me,  seeing  the  Lord  is  de- 
parted from  thee  and  is  become  thine  enemy."  1  Samuel,  ch.  vii.  v.  16. 
(Rejected  by  the  British  Institution,  but  afterwards  exhibited  at  the  Royal 
Academy.)  —  Portrait  of  Howard  Payne  as  Norval. 

Leslie,  in  his  6  Recollections,'  speaks  of  the  '  Saul '  as  his  first 
large  picture,  and  of  its  fate  in  being  at  first  rejected  at  the 
British  Institution,  owing  to  its  unfinished  appearance  —  attrib- 
uted by  the  painter  to  its  want  of  varnish  —  of  its  improvement, 
under  the  advice  of  Mr.  West,  and  of  its  ultimate  sale  for  one  hun- 
dred guineas,  to  Sir  John  Leicester,  afterwards  Lord  de  Tabley. 

Of  Payne  and  his  portrait  we  have  heard  already,  in  the 
Autobiography,  as  well  as  in  the  letters  of  1813. 

I  have  had  entrusted  to  me  no  letters  of  Leslie's  for  this  year, 
nor  for 

1815. 

A  Portrait  of  A  Ladt  (not  exhibited)  is  the  solitary  picture 
recorded  for  this  year.  But  in  the  interval  between  1813  and 
1815  he  had  qualified  himself  to  carry  off  the  two  medals  at  the 
Academy,  which  he  received  in  the  following  year. 

1816. 

Pictures  of  this  Year. 

Death  of  Rutland. 

Oh,  let  me  pray  before  I  take  my  death :  — 
To  thee  I  pray;  Sweet  Clifford,  pity  me ! 
Such  pity  as  my  rapier's  point  affords. 

^ 

Thy  father  slew  my  father ;  therefore,  die ! 

Third  Part  of  Henry  VI.    Act  1.    Scene  3. 

The  choice  of  subject  for  this  year's  picture  is  worth  noting. 


Rutland.  — 
Clifford.  — 


196 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1816. 


It  was  Leslie's  first  venture  on  his  most  congenial  work  —  the 
illustration  of  our  English  classics.  From  this  time  we  hear  no 
more  from  him  of  the  antique  and  the  classical  in  subjects. 
Shakespeare,  Cervantes,  Moliere,  Le  Sage,  Addison,  Fielding, 
Goldsmith,  and  Smollett,  are  henceforth  to  prompt  the  young 
painter's  conceptions.  He  followed  his  bent  in  choosing  this 
field,  and  speedily  displayed  his  real  power  of  keenly  apprehend- 
ing and  gracefully  representing  characters  and  humours  in  the 
creations  of  those  great  masters.  But  the  incident  of  this  picture 
of  1816  was  a  painful  one,  the  murder  of  the  young  son  of 
Plantagenet  by  the  revengeful  Clifford.  Sir  Edwin  Landseer, 
then  a  curly-headed  youngster,  dividing  his  time  between  Polito's 
wild-beasts  at  Exeter  Change  and  the  Royal  Academy  Schools, 
tells  me  that  he  sat  for  the  pleading  boy,  with  a  rope  round  his 
wrists.  Leslie  appears  to  have  thought  more  of  his  conception 
of  the  murderer  than  of  that  of  the  victim,  for  he  speaks  of  the 
picture  as  "  my  Clifford."  The  picture  was  sent  to  Philadelphia, 
and,  to  his  great  gratification,  purchased  by  the  Academy  of  his 
native  place. 

It  was  in  this  year  that  the  controversy  as  to  the  Elgin  marbles 
raged  so  loudly,  on  the  occasion  of  their  purchase  by  the  Govern- 
ment. Haydon  was  foremost  in  blowing  the  flames  of  the  con- 
troversy, and  fiercely  sounding  the  praises  of  these  divine  works, 
as  he  has  fully  recorded  in  his  Autobiography.  The  casts  to 
which  Leslie  alludes  in  his  letter  of  June  3rd,  were  probably  casts 
from  the  moulds  of  the  Theseus,  Ilyssus,  and  other  fragments, 
taken  under  Haydon's  direction. 

London,  June  3rd,  1816. 

Dear  Betsey,  —  I  have  just  received  your  letter  of  April 
23rd,  by  the  '  Superior.'  I  am  on  every  account  delighted  with 
the  sale  of  Mr.  Allston's  large  picture  to  the  Academy,  first,  for 
the  service  to  so  excellent  a  man,  then  for  the  promise  it  gives  of 
encouragement  for  historical  painting  in  America,  and  lastly,  for 
the  honour  it  does  to  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  I  have  lately 
been  leading  quite  a  dissipated  life,  and  having  spent  almost  every 
evening  out  for  some  time  past,  I  have  let  a  longer  time  elapse 


1816.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


197 


since  writing  to  you  than  I  ought,  or  wished  to  have  done,  winch 
I  hope  you  will  excuse  with  your  usual  goodness.  I  have  heard 
a  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  have  been  to  the  opera 
for  the  first  and,  I  think,  last  time.  At  the  former  place  I  heard 
Lord  Castlereagh,  Mr.  Vansittart,  Mr.  Brougham,  &c,  speak, 
and  saw  Sir  Francis  Burdett.  At  the  latter  I  heard  Braham, 
Madame  Foder,  Signor  Naldi,  &c,  sing,  but  at  both  places  the 
acting  was  so  bad,  and  the  people  appeared  so  little  like  what 
they  represented,  that  I  grew  very  tired  of  listening  to  them. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  Lord  Castlereagh,  that  great  diplomatist  and 
negotiator,  in  the  likeness  of  a  Bond-street  lounger,  blue  cossack 
pantaloons  gathered  in  front  like  the  old  English  dresses,  a  blue 
coat,  the  skirts  and  pockets  edged  with  white  and  black,  and  a 
black  velvet  collar !  —  rather  a  small  man,  with  something  of  a 
fashionable  lisp.  Mr.  Brougham,  leader  of  the  Opposition,  the 
thunders  of  whose  eloquence  must  have  reached  America  long 
ago,  is  as  follows.*  The  room  in  which  they  meet  is  very  small 
and  plain,  and  by  no  means  gives  an  idea  of  a  place  in  which  the 
affairs  of  a  great  nation  are  settled.  I  had  here  an  opportunity 
that  never  occurred  to  me  before,  that  of  hearing  several  genuine 
Irish  bulls,  made  by  a  member  of  the  house.  The  Opera  House 
is  the  most  splendid  theatre  I  was  ever  in.  Each  box  is  separated 
by  a  crimson  curtain,  which  gives  a  most  magnificent  appearance 
to  the  whole.  I  sat  in  the  gallery,  which  is  quite  a  respectable 
place,  and  nearly  as  expensive  as  the  boxes  at  the  other  theatres. 
It  reminded  me  of  *  Evelina  and  the  Branghtons.'  I  had  an 
English  translation  of  the  piece  (which  was  called  { La  Cosa 
Rara ')  in  my  hand,  so  that  I  could  understand  the  performers, 
but  the  acting  was  so  execrable  that  it  destroyed  all  the  effect  of 
the  music,  excepting  in  some  of  the  songs.  A  few  nights  ago  I  had 
a  ticket  given  me  for  a  private  concert  at  Lady  Saltoun's,  near 
Grosvenor  Square,  where  I  had  an  opportunity  of  mingling  with 
lords  and  ladies  for  a  few  hours.  There  were  stars  glittering  on 
the  breasts  of  gentlemen,  and  diamonds  on  the  necks  of  ladies,  and 
to  say  the  truth,  the  ladies  had  need  of  them,  for  I  never  saw  a 
more  ordinary  set.  They  reminded  me  of  those  subordinate 
characters  in  Miss  Edgeworth's  novels,  in  which  she  is  so  happy. 
*  A  pen-and-ink  sketch  followed. 


198 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1816. 


Some  of  the  music  was  very  fine,  particularly  a  duet  by  two 
French  girls,  which  was  divine.  They  had  taste  enough  to 
encore  it,  and  I  could  have  listened  to  it  all  night.  I  had  also  the 
pleasure  of  again  hearing  Drouet,  the  celebrated  performer  on 
the  flute.  I  felt  that  this  was  the  proper  way  to  enjoy  music,  one 
such  concert  to  me  is  worth  fifty  operas  with  the  same  performers. 
"When  the  ear  is  delighted,  nothing  else  is  wanted.  Scenery, 
gesture,  costume,  and  everything  of  that  kind,  hurts  the  effect 
instead  of  improving  it.  Fine  music  always  carries  me  into 
other  regions,  but  at  the  opera  I  felt  chained  down  to  the  earth. 
Some  time  ago,  I  went  to  see  a  new  tragedy  ('  Bertram '),  which 
bears  some  resemblance  to  Lord  Byron's  <  Corsair.'  It  is  written 
by  the  author  of  the  <  Milesian.'  We  were  very  near  the  stage, 
where  I  could  enjoy  and  appreciate  Kean's  acting.  He  has  the  dis- 
advantage of  a  small  person,  but  with  an  amazing  power  of  ex- 
pression in  his  face.  He  is  less  noble  and  dignified  than  Kemble, 
but  I  think  his  genius  is  as  great  in  its  way.  Every  word  he 
utters  is  full  of  power,  and  I  know  not  whether  he  most  excels 
in  the  terrific  or  in  the  tender  and  pathetic.  His  face,  though 
not  handsome,  is  picturesque,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  wore 
his  hair  was  peculiarly  so. 

* 

The  above  sketch,  though  caricatured,  is  a  little  like  him.  A 
few  nights  ago,  Mrs.  Siddons  performed  Queen  Katharine  for 
Charles'  Kemble's  benefit.  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
going,  and  actually  endangered  my  life  to  see  her,  in  a  most  tre- 
mendous crowd.  She  played  gloriously,  so  as  to  bring  back  all 
my  former  recollections  of  her.  She  is  very  little  altered,  and  I 
believe  there  are  hopes  of  her  return  to  the  stage.  Kemble 
played  Cardinal  Wolsey  in  his  best  manner,  and  his  voice  was  in 
excellent  condition.  This  play  is  got  up  in  the  most  classical  and 
magnificent  style.  The  banquet  scene  was  splendid  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  Anne  Boleyn  was  performed  by  Miss  Foster  (a  per- 
fectly beautiful  girl).  Egerton  who  played  Harry  resembles  his 
person,  and  was  dressed  precisely  like  the  pictures  and  statues  of 
him.  Charles  Kemble  played  Cromwell;  by  the  by  he  is  no 
great  actor ;  the  only  character  I  ever  liked  him  in  was  Falcon- 
*  Here  followed  a  pen-and-ink  sketch. 


1816.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


199 


bridge.  I  am  in  great  hopes  of  getting  an  introduction  to  Mrs. 
Siddons,  to  make  a  sketch  of  her  face,  through  Payne.  How- 
ever, there  are  many  difficulties  in  the  way,  as  she  is  as  much  of 
the  Princess  off  the  stage  as  she  is  on.  Payne  knows  Charles 
Kemble  very  well,  but  Charles  is  not  sufficiently  intimate  with 
his  sister  to  take  the  liberty  of  asking  such  a  favour  of  her.  He 
did  not  even  ask  her  to  play  for  his  benefit.  I  am  therefore  in 
hopes  of  obtaining  it  through  John  Kemble.  Mr.  Coleridge  is  at 
present  here ;  he  has  just  published  his  poem  of  '  Cristabel.' 
He  lives  at  Highgate  (about  three  miles  from  us)  in  a  most  de- 
lightful family.  He  requested  me  to  sketch  his  face,  which  I  did, 
out  there,  and  by  that  means  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gilman,  who  are  the  sort  of  people  that  you  become  inti- 
mate with  at  once.  They  have  invited  me  in  the  most  friendly 
manner  to  visit  them  at  all  times,  and  to  spend  weeks  with  them. 
There  are  some  beautiful  scenes  about  Highgate,  and  I  shall  in 
future  make  it  my  resort  for  landscape  studies.  Mrs.  Gilman  has 
a  very  fine  face,  and  she  will  sit  to  me  whenever  I  wish.  She  is 
a  very  excellent,  charming  woman ;  and  to  do  the  English  jus- 
tice, I  believe  hers  is  not  an  uncommon  character  among  them. 
I  have  met  with  four  such  women  myself,  and  I  think  I  could 
right  safely  add  more  to  the  number,  and  my  English  acquaint- 
ance is  not  very  extensive.  If  I  had  any  right  to  speak  from  my 
limited  observation,  I  should  say,  that  the  women  here  far  ex- 
ceed the  men  in  virtue.  Caroline  Percy,  Belinda,  and  Grace 
Nugent,  are,  I  am  convinced,  not  ideal  characters.  They  have 
just  opened  a  very  fine  exhibition  of  the  Italian  masters  at  the 
British  Gallery.  It  contains  two  of  the  cartoons  of  Raphael,* 
and  a  cabinet  picture  by  him  of  Saint  Catherine,  which  is  the 
most  divine  head  I  have  ever  seen,  one  or  two  fine  Titians,  a 
number  of  glorious  Paul  Veroneses,  and  all  the  original  cartoons 
of  the  heads  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  *  Last  Supper,'  which  give 
me  a  higher  opinion  of  him  than  anything  I  have  seen,  and, 
though  last  not  least,  some  very  fine  Claudes,  Salvators,  and 
Poussins.    This  exhibition  affords  a  most  delicious  treat  to  us 

*  Got  up  from  Hampton  Court,  Haydon  says  —  in  his  biography  —  at  his 
suggestion.  —  Ed. 


200 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1816. 


artists,*  and  I  hope  some  of  the  best  pictures  will  be  left  at  the 
close  of  it,  for  the  students  to  copy.  I  shall  soon  send  to  Sully  a 
little  oil  copy  from  a  Paul  Veronese,  which  I  think  he  will  find 
useful.  I  am  going  on  much  as  usual.  Portrait  is  the  order  of 
the  day. 

I  have  just  received  a  long  and  kind  letter  from  Mr.  Bradford, 
which  I  shall  answer  immediately.  I  shall  be  extremely  glad  to 
see  Henry  Carey,  and  shall  render  him  every  service  in  my 
power.  Remember  me  affectionately  to  him  when  you  see  him. 
Nothing  has  occurred  to  alter  my  determination  of  returning 
at  the  time  I  have  fixed ;  on  the  contrary,  I  grow  more  and 
more  anxious  for  its  approach,  and  the  sale  of  Mr.  Allston's  pic- 
ture has  very  much  brightened  my  prospects. 

I  am  exceedingly  anxious  that  our  Academy  should  send  for 
casts  from  the  finest  Antiques  in  the  world,  which  are  now  in 
London,  and  were  brought  from  Athens  by  Lord  Elgin.  I  have 
written  to  Sully  on  the  subject,  and  hope  he  will  exert  his  in- 
fluence with  them  to  that  end.  It  will  be  an  incalculable  advan- 
tage to  our  artists,  and  their  being  in  Philadelphia  would  make 
me  quite  content  to  fix  my  residence  there  for  the  remainder  of 
my  life.  I  know  an  artist  f  who  says,  he  thanks  God  every 
morning  that  he  did  not  die  before  they  arrived  in  England. 

Tell  Sully  that  I  entreat  him  not  to  lose  a  moment's  time  in 
persuading  the  Academy  to  procure  them.  He  will  look  upon 
their  arrival  as  a  sure  prognostic  of  the  rise  of  the  Arts  among 
us.  We  want  to  establish  a  correct  public  taste,  and  I  know 
nothing  so  likely  to  do  it.  I  sent  Sully  an  extract  from  one  of 
the  weekly  papers  upon  the  subject  of  them,|  since  which  there 
has  appeared  in  the  last  number  of  the  '  Quarterly  Review '  a 
full  account  of  them,  which  I  wish  he  could  obtain  a  sight  of. 
No  doubt  many  of  his  acquaintances  receive  that  work.  Fare- 
well, remember  me  as  usual  to  all  relations  and  friends. 

C.  R.  L. 

*  This  was  the  first  year  in  which  such  an  opportunity  of  copying  was 
given.  —  Ed. 
t  Haydon.  —  Ed. 

|  One  of  Haydon's  articles  from  the  '  Examiner.'  —  Ed. 


1816.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


201 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  Dec.  12,  1816. 

I  have  just  received  your  letters  of  October  8th  and  19th, 
rendered  doubly  welcome  by  so  long  an  interval  since  the  last. 

I  am  glad  to  hear  of  the  safe  arrival  of  the  pictures,  and  still 
more  so  that  the  Academy  is  inclined  to  purchase  my  Clifford. 
Tell  Sully  I  will  accept  the  thousand  dollars  in  preference  to  the 
other  proposal.  Your  criticisms  on  the  picture  are  very  just.  I 
am  only  afraid  that  your  diffidence  as  to  your  own  judgment  pre- 
vents your  pointing  out  many  other  faults  that  you  see.  Do  not 
be  afraid  of  saying  exactly  what  you  think.  I  am  used  to  having 
my  pictures  remarked  on,  and  when  people  can  see  some  merit  in 
them  it  does  not  annoy  me  to  have  a  great  many  faults  pointed 
out ;  on  the  contrary  I  have,  in  most  instances,  reason  to  be 
pleased  with  it.  Your  commendations  were  very  gratifying  to 
me,  as  they  were  bestowed  upon  those  parts  of  my  picture  which 
I  was  best  satisfied  with  myself.  I  think,  therefore,  they  were 
just,  though  somewhat  too  warm,  from  the  natural  and  amiable 
prejudice  of  a  sister,  and  from  your  not  having  had  opportunities 
of  seeing  a  great  deal  of  art.  You  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that 
the  silver  medal  which  I  was  a  candidate  for  has  been  awarded  to 
me.  The  evening  of  the  10th,  I  received  it  from  the  hand  of 
Mr.  Fuseli,  who  presided  in  Mr.  West's  absence  (on  account  of 
ill-health).  The  copying  at  the  British  Gallery  is  over.  I  have 
finished  my  Paul  Veronese.  It  is  rather  a  pleasant  mode  of 
study,  and  has  considerable  advantages.  There  were  thirty 
artists  there  on  an  average  every  day,  eight  or  ten  of  them 
ladies.  It  is  useful  to  see  the  different  modes  of  painting  that 
are  practised,  and  to  hear  the  various  opinions  that  are  advanced. 
From  those  that  are  better  and  further  advanced  than  myself,  I 
have  learnt  in  many  instances  what  to  aim  at,  and  from  those  that 
are  inferior  what  to  avoid.  There  were  two  of  the  cartoons  left 
there,  but  I  had  not  time  to  make  any  studies  from  them.  My 
principal  pursuit  at  present  is  colour,  and  I  find  there  is  more  to 
be  learned  in  that  from  the  Venetians  than  all  the  other  schools 
put  together.    They  have  a  painting-school  at  the  Academy  now, 


202 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1816. 


on  a  similar  plan  to  that  at  the  Gallery,  and  they  have  lately  re- 
ceived one  of  the  cartoons,  the  Death  of  Ananias,  —  one  of  the 
finest  —  from  Hampton  Court.  There  is  a  picture  there  of  Mr. 
West's,  —  a  Head  by  Guido,  —  which  I  am  going  to  copy  for 
Mr.  MacMurtrie. 

I  lately  requested  to  see  Fuseli's  pictures  at  the  Academy. 
He  received  me  very  politely  and  took  me  into  his  painting-room. 
He  is  at  present  about  a  picture  of  Perseus  flying  off  with  the 
head  of  Medusa.  The  figure  of  Medusa  is  very  happily  con- 
ceived, and  he  has  contrived  to  hide  all  the  disgusting  part,  —  the 
stump  of  the  neck  and  the  blood,  —  very  judiciously.  He  has  in 
his  room  the  finest  picture  I  ever  saw  of  his,  '  The  Lazar  House,' 
I  believe  from  Milton.  It  is  one  of  the  most  tremendous  exhi- 
bitions of  appalling  sights  I  ever  beheld.  The  figures  glare 
across  the  picture  like  a  horrible  dream.  He  has  certainly  never 
been  equalled  in  the  visionary,  and  there  it  is  he  shines  as  a 
genius,  but  whenever  he  attempts  commonplace  he  is  contemp- 
tible. 

Fuseli,  I  believe,  never  has  painted  from  nature,  and  conse- 
quently does  not  know  what  it  is.  His  illustrations  of  Cowper 
are  ridiculous  in  the  extreme.  He  is  a  great  master  of  light  and 
shadow,  and  colour,  as  far  as  it  can  be  made  an  engine  of  the  ter- 
rific. His  paintings  are  very  coarse,  and  have  an  uncertain  kind 
of  execution  which  is  very  fine  in  ghosts  and  witches,  but  very 
bad  in  gentlemen  and  ladies.  Turner,  however,  is  my  great 
favourite  of  all  the  painters  here. 

I  went  to  see  his  pictures  yesterday,  and  was  delighted  as  I 
always  am  with  them.  He  combines  the  highest  poetical  imagi- 
nation with  an  exquisite  feeling  for  all  the  truth  and  individuality 
of  nature,  and  he  has  shown  that  the  ideal,  as  it  is  called,  is  not 
the  improving  of  nature,  but  the  selecting  and  combining  objects 
i  that  are  most  in  harmony  and  character  with  each  other.  To 
wind  up  the  matter,  I  will  sketch  the  heads  of  the  two  great  men 
I  have  been  describing.*  Alas  !  I  have  failed  in  the  likeness  of 
Turner ;  the  other  is  Fuseli,  and  though  a  little  in  caricature, 
gives  some  idea  of  him.  His  front  face  has  very  much  the  char- 
acter of  a  lion.  I  find  I  have  written  about  one  subject  only, 
*  Here  follow  two  pen-and-ink  sketches. 


1817.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


203 


and  that  though  the  most  interesting  to  me  may  not  be  equally 
so  to  you,  and  so  good  bye. 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  Dec.  23,  1816. 

My  last  letter  I  believe  was  solely  about  the  Arts.  There 
were  several  other  things  I  had  intended  to  say  in  it  when  I 
began,  but  I  soon  found  myself  over  head  and  ears  in  paint,  and 
accordingly  reserved  them  for  another  letter. 

I  am  very  much  pleased  with  the  subject  you  proposed  in  your 
last,  of  William  Tell,  and  shall  probably  paint  it  some  time  or 
other.    It  will  be  very  difficult  to  compose  it. 

I  have  often  intended  to  ask  my  mother  for  a  description  of 
the  places  where  my  father  lived,  and  where  Tom  and  I  were 
born.  I  wish  she  may  recollect  the  numbers  of  the  houses.  I 
remember  that  just  before  we  sailed,  we  had  lodgings  in  Cheap- 
side,  at  a  china  shop.  I  think  the  name  of  the  people  was 
Anice,  but  I  have  looked  in  vain  for  such  a  name  or  such  a  shop 
in  Cheapside.  I  should  like  also  to  know  the  church  in  which  I 
was  christened.  *  *  *  *  I  often  amuse  myself  by  dreaming  of 
my  return,  and  how  you  will  all  look,  and  what  you  will  all  say : 
delightful  reveries  — 

When  I  think  of  my  own  native  land, 
In  a  moment  I  seem  to  be  there ; 
But  alas !  recollection  at  hand, 
Soon  hurries  me  back  to  . 

no,  not  to  "despair,"  but  to  old  England.  Farewell  for  the 
present.    Remember  me  to  all  friends  and  relations. 

C.  R.  L. 

1817. 

Pictures  of  this  Year. 

Portraits  Painted  at  Paris  of  Miss  Weller,  Mrs.  Carnes,  Mr. 
Green,  and  other  Americans. 

Leslie  exhibited  no  picture  at  the  Academy  this  year,  though 


204 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1817. 


lie  painted  the  above  enumerated  portraits  of  his  countrymen  and 
women  during  a  visit  to  Paris,  where  he  spent  two  months.  He 
made  the  excursion  in  company  with  his  friends  Allston  and  Wil- 
liam Collins,  afterwards  the  Royal  Academician.  In  a  letter  to 
his  sister,  of  September  22,  after  describing  their  journey,  via 
Brighton  and  Dieppe,  he  says,  — 

"  The  day  after  our  arrival  we  were  not  able  to  get  into  the 
Louvre,  and  we  visited  the  church  of  Notre  Dame,  a  fine  Gothic 
structure,  but  inferior  to  Westminster  Abbey.  The  following  day 
we  went  to  the  Louvre,  and  revelled  all  the  morning  in  the  rich- 
est luxury  of  art.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  describe  my  feel- 
ings ;  had  my  whole  life  before  been  one  of  misery,  it  seemed  as 
if  this  day  would  have  balanced  the  account,  and  made  me  con- 
sider myself  the  happiest  of  human  beings.  But  all  this  may 
appear  to  you  extravagant,  and  perhaps  is  so ;  but  as  I  believe 
that  in  many  instances  it  is  of  advantage  to  be  led  away  by  our 
feelings  (provided  they  do  not  lead  us  away  from  our  duties),  I 
gave  myself  entirely  up  to  them.  In  the  cartoons  of  Raphael,  I 
had  before  had  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing  all  that  part  of 
the  art  which  addresses  itself  to  the  mind,  and  now  I  saw,  in  its 
fullest  perfection,  all  that  part  which  can  delight  the  eye,  in  the 
picture  of  the  '  Marriage  at  Cana '  by  Paul  Veronese.  It  is  an 
immense  picture,  about  thirty  feet  by  twenty,  and  the  figures  are 
as  large  as  life.  The  colouring  is  quite  -perfect,  and  far  exceeds 
any  picture  of  the  kind  that  I  have  ever  seen,  or  expect  to  see. 
There  are  many  other  very  fine  pictures,  and,  it  must  be  owned, 
a  great  deal  of  trash,  which  has  been  substituted  for  the  pictures 
which  were  removed.  The  gallery  itself  is  a  most  splendid 
building,  and  does  very  great  honour  to  the  nation  it  belongs  to." 

Of  this  year,  too,  is  the  first  letter  I  find  from  him  addressed  to 
his  friend  Washington  Irving.  It  would  seem  from  allusions  to  the 
'  Dutch  Courtship,'  and  other  passages  in  this  letter,  to  have  been 
already  settled  that  a  series  of  illustrations  to  '  Knickerbocker 1 
and  the  '  Sketch  Book '  were  to  be  executed  by  Allston  and 
Leslie.  We  shall  find  frequent  references  to  this  work  in  a 
year  or  two. 


1817.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


205 


London,  Dec.  20,  1817. 

My  Dear  Sir,  —  I  ought  to  be  very  clever  at  making  apolo- 
gies for  delaying  to  answer  the  letters  of  my  friends,  if  practice 
is  as  useful  in  this  as  in  other  things  ;  but  I  am  really  quite  at  a 
loss  in  the  present  instance,  for  the  truth  is  I  have  no  excuse  to 
offer  but  laziness,  which  is  inexcusable.  I  shall  therefore  plead 
guilty,  and  hope  that  as  the  fault  carries  with  it  the  heavy  pun- 
ishment of  its  own  consciousness,  you  will  forgive  me. 

I  arrived  in  London  about  three  weeks  ago,  by  the  way  of  Brus- 
sels and  Antwerp,  after  a  very  gratifying,  and  I  hope  profitable, 
residence  of  two  months  in  Paris.  The  Louvre  is  more  rich 
than  I  expected.  I  painted  a  portrait  of  Miss  Weller,  but  as  I 
did  not  come  back  direct,  I  left  it,  with  some  sketches  I  made  in 
the  Louvre,  to  be  sent  after  me,  and  they  have  not  yet  arrived. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Preston  there ;  he  gave  me 
some  very  interesting  descriptions  of  scenes  that  you  enjoyed  to- 
gether in  Scotland.  You  must  have  been  very  much  delighted 
with  the  society  of  Edinburgh.  I  hope  your  tour  has  roused  you 
into  the  writing  mood. 

I  have  put  the  sketch  of  the  1  Dutch  Courtship '  into  the  hands 
of  a  very  excellent  engraver.  It  will  be  done  in  two  months  ;  the 
price  will  be  twenty-five  guineas,  which  is  not  high  for  the  style 
in  which  he  will  do  it. 

Mr.  Allston  is  afraid  that  his  drawing  cannot  be  reduced  with- 
out losing  the  expression,  and  intends  therefore  doing  another  of 
the  size  of  mine  as  soon  as  he  can  choose  a  subject.  He  has  not 
yet  got  to  work  on  his  large  picture,  but  has  just  finished  a  very 
grand  and  poetical  figure  of  the  angel  Uriel  sitting  in  the  sun. 
The  figure  is  colossal,  the  attitude  and  air  very  noble,  and  the 
form  heroic  without  being  overcharged.  In  the  colour  he  has 
been  equally  successful,  and  with  a  very  rich  and  glowing  tone 
he  has  avoided  positive  colours,  which  would  have  made  him  too 
material.  There  is  neither  red,  blue,  nor  yellow  in  the  picture, 
and  yet  it  possesses  a  harmony  equal  to  the  best  pictures  of  Paul 
Veronese.  I  hope  you  will  be  in  London  ere  long  to  see  it.  I 
cannot  in  this  letter  make  any  observations  on  '  Jacob's  Dream,' 


206 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1818. 


but  I  will  write  to  you  again  very  soon,  and  in  the  meantime, 
endeavour  to  put  together  some  remarks  upon  painting  gener- 
ally. 

We  met  Verplank  at  Paris,  whom  we  found  a  very  agreeable 
and  intelligent  companion.  I  painted  there  the  portraits  of  Mrs. 
Carnes,  a  pretty  countrywoman  of  ours,  and  Mr.  Green.  I  am 
at  present  engaged  in  the  same  way  here,  and  shall  probably  do 
nothing  else  till  my  return  to  America,  which  I  expect  will  be  in 
the  spring,  when  I  hope  to  undertake  the  plans  I  communicated 
to  you  when  you  were  in  London. 

Allston  sends  his  warmest  regards  to  you,  in  which  he  is 
heartily  joined  by 

Yours,  very  truly, 

Chas.  R.  Leslie. 

To  Washington  Irving,  Esq., 

At  Henry  Van  Wart's,  Esq., 
Birmingham. 


1818. 

Pictures  of  this  Year. 

Anne  Page  and  Master  Slender.    (Not  exhibited).  —  Girl  with  Dead 
Bird.    (Not  exhibited.) 

As  to  the  former,*  which  was  no  doubt  the  first  conception  of 
the  more  important  picture  on  this  subject,  which  he  painted  and 
exhibited  in  1825,  I  find  nothing  in  the  correspondence  under  the 
date  of  this  year,  except  the  allusion  to  it  in  the  following  letter 
from  "Washington  Irving,  who  was  now  at  Birmingham,  in  very 
bad  health,  and  labouring  under  great  depression  of  spirits.  Leslie 
had  no  doubt  written  to  tell  his  friend  of  the  progress  of  the  illus- 

*  I  think  it  likely  to  have  been  the  first  engraved  picture  of  Leslie's,  from 
the  '  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.'  The  engraving  is  by  Finden.  The  scene  is  in 
Page's  garden,  where  Anne  invites  Slender  in  to  dinner.  He  stands  with 
crossed  legs  lackadaisically,  and  turns  his  back  on  Anne,  who  points  towards 
the  house.  The  Slender  has  a  great  deal  of  character.  The  Anne  Page  is 
conventional,  and  smacks  of  George  the  Third's  London  and  1818,  more  than 
Elizabeth's  Windsor  and  1592.  —  Ed. 


1818.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE 


207 


trations,  but  I  do  not  find  the  letter  in  the  extracts  I  have  from 
Leslie's  correspondence  with  Irving. 

Irving  writes  from  Birmingham  (July  29,  1818)  : 

"  I  wish  the  plates  put  in  the  printer's  hands  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble, and  to  be  executed  on  the  best  paper.  Two  thousand  of 
each.  I  should  like  to  have  three  hundred  proof  impressions  of 
each  struck  off  in  such  manner  that  they  would  do  to  frame, 
should  any  person  like  to  have  them  in  that  manner ;  if  not, 
they  can  hereafter  be  cut  down  to  the  size  of  the  volume.  You 
and  Allston  will  have  as  many  struck  off  for  yourselves  as  you 
please.  Let  me  know  the  whole  expense,  and  I  will  send  the 
money  immediately. 

"  I  have  had  my  trunk  packed  to  come  to  London,  and  should 
have  attended  to  all  this  myself,  but  one  circumstance  or  other 
continually  occurs  to  baffle  my  plans,  and  I  am  at  this  moment  in 
a  little  uncertainty  when  I  shall  get  them. 

"  I  shall  try  hard  to  see  Allston  before  he  sails.  Had  he  been 
going  to  embark  at  Liverpool  the  thing  would  have  been  certain. 
I  regret  excessively  that  he  goes  to  America,  now  that  his  pros- 
pects are  opening  so  promisingly  in  this  country ;  but  perhaps  it 
is  all  for  the  best. 

"  His  '  Jacob's  Dream  '  was  a  particular  favourite  of  mine.  I 
have  gazed  on  it  again  and  again,  and  the  more  I  gazed  the  more 
I  was  delighted  with  it.  I  believe  if  I  was  a  painter,  I  could  at 
this  moment  take  a  pencil  and  delineate  the  whole  with  the  atti- 
tude and  expression  of  every  figure. 

"Allston  gives  me  a  charming  account  of  your  picture  of 
'  Anne  Page  and  Master  Slender.'  I  hope  you  will  take  fre- 
quent opportunities  to  steal  away  from  the  painting  of  portraits, 
to  give  full  scope  to  your  taste  and  imagination." 

In  this  year  Leslie  made  a  pleasure-excursion  into  the  West  of 
England,  of  which  the  letter  to  his  sister  gives  some  pretty  land- 
scape sketches  in  pen  and  ink. 


208 


EXTRACTS  FEOM 


[1818. 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  Nov.  21,  1818. 

In  my  last  I  informed  you  that  I  had  just  returned  from  a  trip 
through  Devonshire,  the  particulars  of  which  I  had  not  then  time 
to  relate.  I  will  endeavour  (now  that  I  have  a  little  more  leisure) 
to  give  you  some  account  of  it.  I  had  received  an  invitation  from 
Mr.  Dunlop,  to  spend  a  short  time  with  him  at  Dawlish,  where 
he  had  taken  lodgings  for  a  fortnight.  I  arrived  at  Exeter  from 
London  in  twenty-four  hours,  where  I  hired  a  gig  and  a  man  to 
drive  me  to  Dawlish,  which  is  at  the  sea-side,  and  about  twelve 
miles  from  Exeter.  This  part  of  the  country  is  all  hill  and  valley, 
very  luxuriant  and  beautifully  diversified  with  gentlemen's  seats 
and  villages.  The  cottages  and  churches  are  of  the  most  brilliant 
white,  and  a  kind  of  vine  which  is  generally  seen  spreading  over 
the  walls  of  the  former,  the  leaves  of  which  are  at  this  season  of 
a  bright  crimson,  produces  a  beautiful  effect.  I  spent  a  fortnight 
of  uninterrupted  enjoyment  at  Dawlish,  bathed  in  the  sea  almost 
every  morning,  and  after  breakfast  went  out  to  some  one  of  the 
fine  views  with  which  we  were  surrounded,  sometimes  alone,  and 
sometimes  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dunlop.  We  visited  Powderham 
Castle,  and  the  grounds  belonging  to  it,  beautifully  situated  on  the 
River  Exe.  The  castle  is  an  ancient  Gothic  one,  but  as  it  has 
been  constantly  occupied,  the  interior  has  been  modernised. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  stands  the  seat  of  the  late 
Lord  Heathfield.  We  also  visited  Mamhead,  the  highest  hill  in 
the  neighbourhood.  On  the  summit  stands  an  obelisk  surrounded 
by  pines  and  other  forest  trees,  among  which  is  the  evergreen 
oak,  a  remarkably  elegant  tree.  This  place  is  more  like  an 
American  wood  than  anything  I  have  seen  in  England. 

At  Mamhead  there  is  a  pretty  little  church,  in  the  yard  of 
which  stands  the  largest  yew  tree  I  ever  saw.  The  trunk  is 
thirty-six  feet  in  circumference.  There  were  also  some  of  the 
finest  elms  I  ever  saw.  Dawlish  itself  is  a  small  place,  with 
nothing  particularly  beautiful  about  it ;  but  as  it  is  well  sheltered 
and  affords  conveniences  for  bathing,  it  is  a  good  deal  resorted  to 
by  invalids.    The  climate  is  considered  the  finest  of  any  part  of 


1818.] 


LESLIE'S  COERESPONDENCE. 


209 


England.  The  shops  at  these  small  places  are  like  our  American 
country  stores.  I  bought  a  pair  of  gloves  at  a  grocer's  who  was 
likewise  an  undertaker,  and  I  had  my  hair  cut  by  a  barber  who 
kept  horses  for  hire  and  sold  pianos. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dunlop  having  given  up  their  intention  of 
going  to  Plymouth,  I  set  out  by  myself.  Mr.  Dunlop  lent  me  a 
horse  and  accompanied  me  as  far  as  Newton  Bushel,  about  ten 
miles  from  Dawlish,  in  the  course  of  which  ride  I  saw  some 
of  the  beautiful  scenery  on  the  River  Teign.  I  had  sent  my 
trunk  back  to  London,  and  took  with  me  only  a  few  shirts  and 
cravats  tied  in  a  handkerchief,  and  my  sketch  book. 

Thus  equipped  I  left  Newton  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  coach- 
es, and  about  four  o'clock  got  down  within  two  miles  of  Totness 
to  visit  Berry  Pomeroy  Castle.  After  proceeding  about  half-a- 
mile  on  foot,  I  came  within  sight  of  the  ruins,  which  crown  the 
summit  of  a  hill,  richly  wooded,  and  over-topped  by  another 
equally  luxuriant  rising  behind  it,  and  forming  a  back-ground  to 
the  castle.  Fearful  that  I  should  not  have  time  before  dark  to 
explore  the  beauties  of  the  place,  I  endeavoured  to  procure  a 
lodging  at  some  cottages  I  saw  before  me.  This  I  found  imprac- 
ticable, but  was  directed  to  the  lodge  of  the  castle  as  the  only 
likely  place  to  obtain  a  bed,  and  where  the  woman  lived  whose 
business  it  is  to  show  the  castle  to  strangers.  To  the  lodge  I 
therefore  repaired,  through  a  long  avenue  of  trees,  but  found  I 
could  not  procure  a  bed  nearer  than  at  Totness.  My  guide  took 
me  into  the  castle  through  a  modern  wooden  gate,  which  supplies 
the  place  of  the  ancient  portcullis.  The  ruined  walls  and  towers 
are  in  most  places  completely  covered  with  ivy.  Not  a  vestige  of 
the  roof  remains.  Tall  trees  are  growing  in  the  principal  apart- 
ments, and  bushes  of  various  kinds  on  the  tops  of  the  walls.  We 
ascended  and  descended  flights  of  steps,  in  some  places  almost 
impassable,  traversed  narrow  and  winding  passages,  sometimes  in 
perfect  darkness.  In  the  guard-room,  over  the  entrance,  my 
guide  pointed  out  the  long  narrow  opening  through  which  the 
portcullis  had  formerly  descended.  Sunset  was  approaching  and 
the 

Loop-hole  tower,  the  donjon-keep, 
In  yellow  lustre  shone. 
14 


210 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1S18. 


That  part  of  the  castle  which  we  first  entered  was  built  in  the 
year  1070.  The  rest,  though  of  more  modern  date,  was  nearly 
in  an  equally  ruinous  state.  The  view  from  one  of  the  towers 
was  very  fine  :  the  surrounding  hills  swelling  and  steep.  The 
day  had  been  a  little  misty,  but  the  sun  was  setting  beautifully 
behind  the  bold  outline  of  a  MIL  Upon  one  side  of  the  castle 
the  hill  on  which  it  stands  is  nearly  perpendicular,  and  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  valley  as  seen  from  above  is  very  romantic  ;  the 
wildness  of  the  foliage  which  covers  the  descent,  and  some 
picturesque  rocks  of  limestone  opposite,  —  separated  from  the 
hill  on  which  the  castle  stands  by  a  broad  level  green,  which  in 
days  of  old  had  been  covered  with  water  forming  the  moat,  — 
combine  to  make  it  so.  The  lulling  sound  of  the  stream  to  which 
the  moat  is  now  shrunk,  .and  which  winds  through  the  valley  en- 
tirely concealed  by  foliage,  and  the  distant  clink  of  a  mill,  were 
the  only  sounds,  excepting  the  notes  of  the  castle's  feathered  in- 
habitants. 

We  now  descended  to  the  opposite  rocks,  from  which  is  the 
best  view  of  the  whole  place.  The  sun  had  set,  but  left  a  mel- 
low light  which  streamed  along  the  horizon,  behind  the  dark  grey 
walls  and  still  darker  ivy  which  mantled  them,  and  threw  a  faint 
tinge  on  the  tops  of  some  of  the  tallest  trees  that  rose  to  the  base 
of  the  ruins.  The  feeling  I  had  in  beholding  a  scene  so  perfect- 
ly poetical  for  the  first  time,  and  knowing  all  that  to  be  real 
which  looked  so  like  a  vision,  was  indescribable.  We  traversed 
the  valley  and  passed  the  mill,  part  of  which  is  coeval  with  the 
castle  and  belonged  to  it.  The  wall  still  remains  round  a  part  of 
the  castle  ground,  and  my  guide  pointed  out  what  had  been  the 
garden  —  now  a  desolate  field.  By  the  time  we  regained  the 
lodge  it  was  dark,  and  I  proceeded  to  Totness  without  delay, 
passing  through  the  village  of  Berry,  about  half  a  mile  from  the 
castle.  I  met  one  or  two  country  people  on  the  road,  who  saluted 
me  with  a  S  good  night. '  In  the  daytime  the  Devonshire  people 
always  bow  or  courtesy  to  you,  dowm  to  the  youngest  children.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  return  to  Berry  Castle  the  next  morn- 
ing, but  when  I  came,  I  found  Totness  such  a  beautiful  place  that 
I  gave  up  my  intention.  The  day  was  delightfully  fine,  and  I 
employed  myself  till  near  two  o'clock  in  wandering  through  the 


1818.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


211 


charming  scenery  that  surrounds  this  ancient  town,  and  occasion- 
ally attempting  a  sketch.  The  bridge  is  very  old,  with  pointed 
arches,  and  in  some  parts  ruinous.  The  church  is  also  very 
ancient.  The  custom  of  tolling  the  curfew  is  still  kept  up  in  this 
part  of  the  country,  though  it  is  not  followed  by  putting  out  the 
lights.  The  church  clock  at  Totness  strikes  the  day  of  the  month 
every  evening.  On  the  top  of  a  high  hill  near  the  church  stands 
the  ruined  tower  of  a  castle,  so  entirely  covered  with  ivy,  that  at 
a  distance  it  has  the  appearance  of  a  clump  of  trees.  A  grassy 
walk  round  the  parapet  of  this  tower,  commands  a  very  fine  view 
of  the  surrounding  country,  through  which  the  river  Dart  winds 
very  beautifully. 

I  left  Totness  on  one  of  the  coaches  that  passes  through,  and 
about  half-past  three  o'clock  arrived  at  Ivy-bridge,  a  pleasant 
village  situated  on  a  picturesque  stream,  which  dashes  over  a  bed 
of  rocks  in  a  continual  series  of  waterfalls  with  a  constant  roar. 
It  is  crossed  by  a  high  picturesque  bridge  of  one  arch,  clothed 
with  ivy,  from  which  the  village  takes  its  name.  I  dined  at  this 
beautiful  place  and  strolled  about  till  dark.  The  next  coach 
came  past  at  seven,  and  on  that  I  proceeded  to  Plymouth,  where 
I  arrived  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock.  The  next  morning  I 
took  a  boat  and  went  on  board  the  '  Impregnable,'  by  merely  ask- 
ing leave  of  the  commanding  officer,  which  was  very  politely 
granted.  She  is  a  100  gun  ship,  and  was  very  much  shattered 
at  Algiers  in  the  late  bombardment,  since  when  she  has  been  en- 
tirely repaired. 

I  was  delighted  with  the  perfect  order  and  cleanliness  main- 
tained in  every  part  of  her.  The  second  gun-deck  was  filled 
with  sailors'  wives  and  children.  I  afterwards  visited  the  dock- 
yard, where  I  obtained  admittance  without  the  least  difficulty 
by  answering  in  the  affirmative  when  asked  if  I  was  a  native  of 
England.  I  was  not  aware  of  what  I  have  since  learned,  that  if  I 
had  called  myself  an  American  I  could  not  have  got  in.  Among 
other  things,  I  was  shown  a  frigate  on  the  stocks  building  upon 
a  large  scale,  to  'face  the  Americans,'  as  my  conductor  told 
me.*  * 

In  tins  year,  much  to  Leslie's  regret,  Allston  sailed  for  Ameri- 


212 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1819. 


ca.  He  was  an  associate  of  our  Royal  Academy,  but  preferred 
America,  and  his  prospects  there,  to  the  certainty  of  distinction 
here.  He  took  up  his  residence  in  Boston,  where  he  followed 
his  art  and  cultivated  literature.  He  lived  much  respected,  and 
died  at  Cambridge  in  Massachusetts  in  1843.  A  folio  volume  of 
fac-similes  of  sketches,  found  in  his  studio  after  his  death,  was 
published  by  Steven  and  Perkins,  of  Boston,  which  abundantly 
shows  his  grace  and  antique  elegance  as  a  designer.  A  '  Dido 
and  ^Eneas,'  in  particular,  might  have  been  traced  from  a  Pom- 
peian  Mosaic.  Mr.  Allston's  masterpiece,  '  Jacob's  Dream,'  is  in 
this  country,  at  Petworth ;  but  I  confess  to  having  been  disap- 
pointed in  the  qualities  of  the  picture,  when  I  saw  it  for  the  first 
time  this  year,  after  reading  what  Irving  and  Leslie  say  of  it. 

1819. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Portrait  of  a  Lady  ( ?).  —  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  going  to  Church, 
accompanied  by  the  srectator,  and  surrounded  by  his  tenants.* 
—  See  Sjjectator,  No.  112.    (Exhibited  R.  A.) 

This  year  is  an  epoch  in  the  painter's  career,  as  being  that  in 
which  Leslie  ventured  on  a  class  of  subjects  which  none  of  our 
painters  has  treated  with  so  fine  a  hand  as  he.  We  have  seen 
him  forsaking  the  Old  Testament  and  the  Pantheon  for  Shake- 
speare. But  he  durst  not  venture  too  fast  into  that  region  of  the 
familiar,  which  the  pedantic  conventionalism  of  that  day  almost 
entirely  proscribed.  Gainsborough,  it  is  true,  had  long  before 
this  time  painted  cottage  children,  and  even  hazarded  '  A  Girl 
and  Pigs,'  which  Sir  Joshua  had,  in  the  opinion  of  his  contem- 
poraries, lowered  himself  by  buying  for  a  hundred  guineas. 
Morland  was  great  in  pigs,  and  stables,  and  sheep-pens.  Later 
still,  Wilkie  had  taken  the  town  by  storm  by  his  *  Blind  Fiddler,' 
and  his  other  inimitable  scenes  of  Scottish  Lowland  life.  But  in 
spite  of  these  exceptions,  it  may  be  said  that  domestic  subjects  were 

*  This  picture  was  exhibited  at  Manchester  in  1857,  by  its  present  possessor, 
John  Naylor,  Esq. —  Ed. 


1819.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


213 


tabooed  to  the  mass  of  painters.  The  illustration  of  books  — 
Shakespeare  excepted  —  was  thought  matter  for  the  publishers 
and  the  reading  public,  rather  than  for  the  painter  and  his  patrons. 
Stothard  and  Smirke  worked  at  this  work,  and  were  both  Acade- 
micians, but  they  were  ill-paid,  and  passed  over  by  the  scanty 
picture-buying  class  of  that  period. 

At  a  time  when  the  classical  and  heroic  are,  in  their  turn,  pro- 
scribed, we  find  it  difficult  to  appreciate  the  courage  of  a  young 
painter  who  dared  to  deviate  from  the  conventional  subjects  and 
style  of  his  times,  and  to  paint  what  his  heart  warmed  to. 

Leslie's  first  picture  of  Sir  Roger  was  painted  for  his  good 
friend  Mr.  Dunlop,  a  wealthy  tobacco  importer,  to  whom  Leslie's 
American  connections  had  made  him  known  on  his  arrival  in 
England. 

Lord  Lansdowne,  one  of  the  soundest  in  judgment  and  most 
self-reliant  among  the  nobility,  who  comprised  in  their  ranks 
almost  all  the  picture-buyers  of  that  day,  saw  and  admired  Mr. 
Dunlop's  picture  at  the  Exhibition,  and  gave  the  painter  a  com- 
mission for  a  repetition  of  the  subject,  which  now  hangs  at 
Bowood. 

We  have  probably  a  right  to  consider  this  year  as  Leslie's 
starting-point  on  the  road  to  fame  and  fortune.  But  the  only 
letter  I  find  of  this  date  is  the  following  characteristic  one  from 
Washington  Irving  (who  had  spent  the  summer  in  London), 
written  to  Leslie  while  on  a  visit  to  his  Quaker  friends,  the 
Dillwyns,  in  Wales,  at  Penllergare  near  Swansea.  The  Lyman, 
Everett,  and  Charles  Williams  mentioned  in  the  letter,  were 
American  friends  of  Irving's  and  Leslie's ;  and  the  Newton  re- 
ferred to,  is  the  painter,  one  of  Leslie's  and  Irving's  most  inti- 
mate associates. 

London,  Sept.  mil,  1819. 

You  Leslie  !  —  What's  the  reason  you  have  not  let  us  hear 
from  you  since  you  set  out  on  your  travels  ?  We  have  been  in 
great  anxiety  lest  you  should  have  started  from  London  on  some 
other  route  of  that  six  inch  square  map  of  the  world  which  you 
consulted,  and  through  the  mistake  of  a  hair's  breadth  may  have 
wandered  the  Lord  knows  where. 


214 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1819. 


Here  have  been  sad  evolutions  and  revolutions  since  you  left 
us.  Newton  had  his  three  shirts  and  six  collars  packed  up  in  a 
half  of  a  saddle  bag  for  several  days,  with  the  intention  of  accom- 
panying Lyman,  Everett,  and  Charles  Williams  to  Liverpool, 
and  returning  with  the  latter  through  Wales,  in  which  case  they 
intended  beating  up  your  quarters,  and  endeavouring  to  surprise 
you  with  your  mahl-stick  turned  into  a  shepherd's  crook,  sighing 
at  the  feet  of  Miss  Maine.  Newton  did  nothing  for  two  or  three 
days  but  scamper  up  and  down  between  Finsbury  Square  and 
Sloane  Street  like  a  cat  in  a  panic,  taking  leave  of  everj^body  in 
the  morning  and  calling  upon  them  again  in  the  evening,  when  to 
his  astonishment  he  found  Charles  Williams  had  the  private  in- 
tention of  embarking  for  America.  Charles  has  actually  sailed, 
and  Newton,  instead  of  his  Welsh  tour,  accompanied  me  on  a 
tour  to  Deptford  and  Eltham.  He  has  now  resumed  his  station  at 
the  head  of  Sloane  Street.  Jones  has  taken  possession  of  the  bot- 
tom, and  between  them  both  I  expect  they  will  tie  the  two  ends  of 
the  street  into  a  true  lover's  knot.  For  my  part  I  have  been 
almost  good  for  nothing  since  your  departure,  and  would  not  pass 
another  summer  in  London  if  they  would  make  me  Lord  Mayor. 

I  have  received  the  second  number  of  the  '  Sketch  Book,' 
and  shall  be  quite  satisfied  if  I  deserve  half  the  praise  they  give 
me  in  the  American  journals  ;  but  they  always  overdo  these  mat- 
ters in  America.  I  am  glad  to  find  the  second  number  pleases 
more  than  the  first.  The  sale  is  very  rapid,  and  altogether  the 
success  exceeds  my  most  sanguine  expectation.  Now  you  sup- 
pose I  am  all  on  the  alert,  and  full  of  spirit  and  excitement.  No 
such  thing.  I  am  just  as  good  for  nothing  as  ever  I  was,  and  in- 
deed have  been  flurried  and  put  out  of  my  way  by  these  puffings. 
I  feel  something  as  I  suppose  you  did  when  your  picture  met  with 
success  —  anxious  to  do  something  better,  and  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 

But  enough  of  egotism.  Let  me  know  how  you  find  yourself ; 
how  you  like  Wales  ;  what  you  are  doing,  and  especially  when 
you  intend  to  return.  I  hope  you  will  not  remain  away  much 
longer.  Newton's  manikin  has  at  length  arrived,  and  he  is  to 
have  it  home  in  a  few  days,  when  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  will  give 
up  rambling  abroad,  and  stay  at  home,  drink  tea,  and  play  the 
flute  to  the  lady.    William  Macdougall  means  to  give  her  a  tea- 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


215 


party,  and  it  is  expected  she  will  be  introduced  into  company 
with  as  much  eclat  as  Peregrine  Pickle's  protegee.  I  have  now 
fairly  filled  my  sheet  with  nonsense,  and  craving  a  speedy  reply, 

I  am,  yours,  W.  I. 

1820. 

Pictures  of  this  Year. 
Londoners  Gipsying.    (Exhibited).  —  Portrait  of  Washington  Irving. 

During  this  year  Leslie  was  much  employed  with  his  illustra- 
tions for  Irving's  wrorks  —  '  Knickerbocker  '  and  the  4  Sketch 
Book  '  —  which  had  attained  a  success  in  London  peculiarly  grat- 
ifying to  Leslie's  affectionate  and  admiring  friendship  for  their 
author.  The  letters  I  have  of  this  date  run  much  on  this  theme. 
Scott's  visit  to  London  this  year  brought  him  and  Leslie  together, 
and  the  painter  was  delighted  by  Scott's  approval  of  his  picture 
of  '  May-day  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth,'  on  which  he  was 
now  engaged.  I  have  inserted  the  account  of  Scott's  visit  to 
Leslie  in  extenso,  as  it  contains  a  pen-and-ink  portrait  of  Scott, 
given  with  all  the  sharpness  of  a  first  impression.  This  year,  too, 
died  the  venerable  President  of  the  Academy.  I  have  not  been 
able  to  ascertain  where  the  '  Gipsying  Party '  now  is,  or  anything 
of  the  way  in  which  the  subject  is  treated. 

The  edition  of  Irving's  wdrks,  with  the  illustrations  by  Leslie 
and  Allston,  was  published  by  Murray  in  1823.  Newton  con- 
tributed the  author's  portrait  ;  Leslie  nine  illustrations  —  the 
Royal  Poet,  James  the  First  of  Scotland,  with  the  dove  flying  in 
at  the  window ;  Rip  Van  Winkle  toiling  up  the  hill  by  the  side 
of  the  spectral  Dutch  sailor,  keg  on  shoulder  ;  the  Indian  chief, 
Philip  of  Pokanoket,  on  his  night-watch  in  the  forest ;  Ichabod 
Crane  giving  his  singing  lesson  to  Katrine,  from  '  The  Legend  of 
Sleepy  Hollow  ; '  a  Dutch  Fire-side  ;  Dutch  Courtship ;  Antony 
Van  Corlear,  trumpet  in  hand,  setting  off  for  the  Wars,  sur- 
rounded by  weeping  vrows  ;  William  Kieft  introducing  his  new 
mode  of  punishment  for  beggars  ;  and  Peter  Stuyvesant  rebuking 
the  Cobbler  :  all  from  '  Knickerbocker.'    Allston  furnished  a  sin- 


216 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1820. 


gle  illustration  from  the  same  book  — Wouter  Van  Twiller  decid- 
ing a  law-suit.  Leslie's  designs  are  full  of  his  own  quiet  and 
well-directed  humour,  with  just  enough  of  caricature,  here  and 
there,  to  suit  the  subject.  But  in  the  Dutch  Fire-side  and  Philip 
of  Pokanoket  this  element  disappears,  to  give  place  to  good  draw- 
ing, excellent  composition,  and,  in  the  former,  to  a  very  fine  and 
subtle  effect  of  chiaroscuro.  He  afterwards  painted  this  subject. 
A  comparison  of  Allston's  design  from  '  Knickerbocker,'  with 
Leslie's,  illustrates  the  difference  between  the  men.  Allston  has 
not  the  least  humour,  and  tries  to  make  up  for  it  by  breadth  of 
caricature  in  faces  and  proportions.  Leslie,  on  the  other  hand, 
keeps  his  caricature  close  on  the  limit  which  separates  that  style 
from  broadly  humorous  design,  and  never  departs  from  genuine 
and  human  expression,  nor  fails  to  introduce  beauty,  whenever  he 
has  an  opening  for  it. 


TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  April  9,  1820. 
The  last  letter  I  have  received  from  you  was  that  of  Feb- 
ruary 7  th. 

Since  I  last  wrote  I  have  completed  my  picture  of  the  '  Gipsy- 
ing Party,'  and  sent  it  to  Somerset  House.  In  a  few  days  I  hope 
to  hear  where  it  is  placed,  and  how  it  is  liked  by  the  Academi- 
cians. I  suppose  you  will  have  received  the  account  that  was 
published  in  the  papers  of  the  funeral  of  Mr.  West.  It  was 
arranged,  I  believe,  exactly  on  the  plan  of  that  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds.  An  apartment  on  the  ground-floor  of  the  Academy 
was  hung  and  carpeted  with  black,  the  daylight  entirely  excluded, 
and  the  room  lighted  by  a  number  of  tall  wax  candles,  placed 
at  regular  distances  on  the  floor,  around  the  coffin,  which  was 
covered  by  a  pall  and  lid  of  black  feathers.  Against  the  wall,  at 
the  head  of  the  corpse,  hung  the  hatchment  bearing  the  family 
arms.  No  one  remained  in  the  room  excepting  Robert,  Mr. 
West's  old  servant,  who  had  sat  up  there  all  the  preceding  night. 
My  feelings  were  greatly  affected  by  this  scene.  The  company 
who  were  tb  attend  the  funeral  assembled  in  a  large  upper  room, 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


217 


where  they  were  provided  with  black  silk  scarves  and  hatbands, 
the  Academicians  wearing  long  black  cloaks.  It  was  interesting 
to  see  persons  of  different  ranks,  and  of  different  nations,  and  of 
well-known  different  political  sentiments,  meeting  on  this  occa- 
sion, and  uniting  in  the  last  tribute  of  respect  to  a  man  of  genius. 
The  service  was  performed  by  Dr.  Wellesley,  brother  to  the 
Duke  of  Wellington.  In  one  part  of  it  a  very  beautiful  anthem 
was  sung  by  the  boys  of  the  choir,  the  effect  of  which,  with  the 
fine  organ  of  St.  Paul's  (said  to  be  the  finest  in  England),  was 
such  as  Milton  has  described  in  the  Penseroso.  Nothing  cer- 
tainly raises  the  imagination  so  far  above  this  "  dim  earth  "  as 
fine  cathedral  music  heard  in  a  cathedral,  and  never  have  I  felt 
its  power  more  than  on  this  occasion.  When  the  service  was 
finished  I  went  down  into  the  crypt,  beneath  the  church,  and  saw 
the  coffin  lowered  into  the  grave.  I  was  not  aware  at  the  time 
that  the  tombs  of  Sir  Joshua,  Opie,  and  Barry,  and  Sir  Christo- 
pher Wren,  were  all  near  the  same  place.  The  crowd  of  per- 
sons assembled  covered  them.  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  has  been 
elected  President,  and  has  just  returned  from  Italy,  where  he  has 
been  painting  whole  lengths  of  the  Pope,  and  I  know  not  how 
many  other  high  personages. 

Walter  Scott  (now  Sir  Walter)  is  in  London,  and  I  am  to 
have  the  honour,  and  I  am  sure  it  will  be  the  very  great  pleasure, 
of  breakfasting  with  him  at  his  lodgings  on  Friday  next.  Irving, 
who  I  suspect  of  being  a  very  great  favourite  of  Scott's,  is  to 
introduce  me.  It  is  what  I  did  not  venture  to  ask  of  him,  but 
Irving,  knowing  how  much  such  an  introduction  would  gratify 
me,  proposed  it  himself.  I  believe  we  are  to  meet  Crabbe,  the 
poet,  there.  Scott  is  one  of  those  men  of  genius  who  delights  in 
the  genius  of  others,  and  is  not  for  having  it  all  to  himself.  He 
has  expressed  the  highest  opinion  of  Irving's  productions,  and 
perhaps  there  is  not  another  man  in  this  country  whose  good 
opinion  is  so  valuable.  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  there  is 
every  prospect  of  Irving's  writings  speedily  becoming  as  popular 
here  as  they  are  in  America.  An  edition  of  the  first  volume  of  the 
4  Sketch  Book '  is  very  nearly  sold  off  here  already.  One  of  the 
stories,  *  The  Wife,'  has  been  translated  into  French,  and  many 
of  the  articles  have  been  extracted  for  the  magazines  and  news- 


218 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1820. 


papers.  Scott  was  very  much  delighted  with  the  sixth  number, 
particularly  with  the  story  of  '  Brom  Bones.'  I  have  just  finished 
reading  '  The  Monastery.'  I  do  not  much  like  the  supernatural 
agency  introduced,  but  I  think  there  are  some  scenes  very  admira- 
bly described,  particularly  the  escape  of  Mysie  with  Sir  Piercie 
Shafton.  The  character  of  Sir  Piercie  appears  to  me  to  be  ex- 
tremely well  drawn,  and  has  a  good  deal  of  novelty.  The  Sub- 
Prior  is  very  finely  sustained.  From  what  I  have  heard,  it  seems 
to  be  less  liked  than  any  of  the  novels,  and  perhaps  with  justice, 
though,  for  my  own  part,  I  read  a  great  deal  of  it  with  as  much 
pleasure  as  any  of  the  others. 

I  went  to  see  the  chairing  of  Sir  Francis  Burdett  and  Mr. 
Hobhouse,  and,  as  I  generally  find  on  these  occasions,  I  was  more 
amused  with  the  crowd  than  the  procession.  The  show  of  beau- 
tiful women  at  the  windows,  their  countenances  animated  by  the 
occasion,  waving  scarves  and  handkerchiefs,  amply  repaid  me  for 
a  good  deal  of  tramping  through  the  mire,  and  a  ducking  from 
the  rain  into  the  bargain.  I  sent  my  copy  of  '  Sir  Roger '  home 
to  the  Marquis,  and  a  day  or  two  afterwards  received  a  note  con- 
taining the  amount,  and  his  expressions  of  perfect  satisfaction 
with  the  picture. 

C.  R.  L. 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

London,  June  28,  1820. 
When  I  last  wrote  I  was  about  to  be  introduced  to  Sir  Walter 
Scott.  He  quite  answered  all  my  expectations  of  him,  and  you 
may  suppose  they  were  very  high.  His  manners  are  those  of  an 
amiable  and  unaffected  man,  and  a  polished  gentleman,  and  his 
conversation  is  something  higher,  for  it  is  often  quite  as  amusing 
and  interesting  as  his  novels,  and  without  any  apparent  attempt 
at  display.  It  flows  from  him  in  the  most  easy  and  natural 
manner.  As  I  take  it  for  granted  that  the  most  insignificant  par- 
ticulars relating  to  such  a  man  will  be  interesting  to  you,  I  will 
give  you  a  description  of  his  personal  appearance,  and  even  his 
dress.  He  is  tall  and  well  formed,  excepting  one  of  his  ankles 
and  foot  (I  think  the  right)  which  is  crippled,  and  makes  him 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


219 


walk  very  lamely.  He  is  neither  fat  nor  thin.  His  face  is  per- 
fectly Scotch,  and  though  some  people  think  it  heavy,  it  struck 
me  as  a  very  agreeable  one.  He  never  could  have  been  hand- 
some. His  forehead  is  very  high,  his  nose  short,  his  upper  lip 
long,  and  the  lower  part  of  his  face  rather  fleshy.  His  com- 
plexion is  fresh  and  clear,  his  eyes  very  blue,  shrewd,  and  pene- 
trating. I  should  say  the  predominant  expression  of  his  face  is 
that  of  strong  sense.  His  hair,  which  has  always  been  very  light 
(as  well  as  his  eyebrows  and  eyelashes)  is  now  of  a  silvery  white- 
ness, which  makes  him  look  somewhat  older  than  he  really  is  (I 
believe  forty-six  is  his  age).  He  was  dressed  in  a  brown  frock 
coat,  blue  trowsers,  and  had  on  a  black  cravat.  His  son  was  with 
him ;  he  is  a  young  man  of  eighteen  or  nineteen,  and  in  the  army 
—  he  does  not  at  all  resemble  his  father.  Among  the  company 
who  breakfasted  with  him  the  morning  we  did,  was  a  Mr.  Bos- 
well,  the  son  of  Dr.  Johnson's  Bozzy.  He  is  a  lawyer,  and  is 
said  to  be  cleverer  than  his  father.  The  breakfast  was  a  very 
profuse  one,  and,  as  I  am  told,  quite  in  the  Scotch  style.  I  would 
have  sent  you  a  sketch  of  Scott,  but,  after  several  attempts,  I  find 
I  cannot  catch  his  face  from  recollection.  All  the  portraits  I 
have  seen  are  somewhat  like  him,  but  none  of  them  very 
strongly  so. 

I  have  not  yet  sold  my  picture  of  the  1  Gipsying  Party,'  and 
scarcely  expect  it  now.  I  am  just  commencing  a  picture  of  the 
May -day  revels  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  which  will  con- 
tain a  great  many  figures,  and  will  be  an  attempt  to  give  the 
costume  and  something  of  the  manners  of  all  classes  in  that  age, 
from  the  nobility  down  to  the  peasantry.  I  have  been  studying 
the  subject  for  several  months,  and  am  reading  all  the  old  authors 
I  can  get  hold  of  who  describe  manners  in  that  time.  I  am  in 
hopes  it  will  be  popular,  as  it  is  a  period  that  Englishmen  are 
fond  of  recurring  to,  as  one  of  the  most  brilliant  in  the  history  of 
their  country.  They  are  also  more  generally  acquainted  with  the 
manners  of  that  time  than  any  other,  on  account  of  the  greater 
popularity  of  Shakespeare  than  any  other  English  writer  what- 
ever. The  picture  I  am  to  paint  for  Mr.  Scriven,  an  engraver, 
whose  object  is  to  make  a  print  of  it. 

I  agree  with  you  in  thinking  the  '  Monastery '  inferior  to  all 


220 


EXTEACTS  FEOM 


[1820. 


the  other  novels,  but  still  there  is  a  great  deal  in  it  that  nobody 
else  could  write.  Were  you  not  much  amused  with  Sir  Piercie 
Shafton  ?  I  think  the  description  of  his  flight  with  Mysie  Hap- 
per  is  very  good. 

C.  R.  L. 

Irving  was  now  in  Paris,  and  the  following  correspondence 
between  him  and  Leslie  is  creditable  on  both  sides.  It  gives 
glimpses  besides  of  the  pleasant  social  life  of  Leslie  and  his  circle 

—  "  the  lads  "  as  Irving  calls  them  —  the  affectionate  nick-names 

—  the  blind-man's  buff  under  the  trees  at  Dr.  Bollman's  at  Wink- 
field —  and  the  scrambling  bachelor  menage  of  Leslie  and  his 
quaint  little  chum,  Peter  Powell,  —  which  seem  to  me  too  char- 
acteristic to  be  omitted. 

London,  Sept.  15th,  1820. 

Dear  Irving,  — "  What  are  you  at "  that  you  do  not  write 
to  some  of  us  ?  "  There  never  were  such  times  "  as  we  have  had 
lately.  In  the  first  place,  the  "  Childe  "  (Newton)  was  turned 
out  of  house  and  home  by  a  host  of  painters  and  glaziers  old 
Perkins  *  let  in  upon  him  one  day.  He  agreed  to  make  the  tour 
of  Wales  with  Charles  Williams  and  the  Lymans,  but  the  matter 
got  perplexed  somehow  or  other  between  Charles  and  him,  and 
Newton,  who  was  to  join  them  on  the  road,  not  knowing  exactly 
where  it  was  to  be,  determined  to  go  somewhere  else.  He  there- 
fore spent  a  day  in  taking  the  opinions  of  all  his  acquaintances  as 
to  whether  he  should  that  night  set  off  for  Cumberland,  Margate, 
Paris,  the  Davidson's,  or  go  to  the  English  Opera.  "  The 
Dusty  "  (?)  being  the  last  man  he  called  on,  advised  the  latter, 
which  he  accomplished,  and  next  morning  set  off  for  Hastings, 
and  from  thence  to  Brighton,  where  he  met  all  the  world,  and 
returned  to  London  with  old  Gray  in  a  great  panic  lest  Luke  and 
myself  should  have  gone  to  Winkfield  (where  we  were  engaged 
to  pass  a  few  days)  without  him.  We  have  all  three  spent  a  most 
delightful  week  there  with  the  Bollmans,  Miss  Maine  (who  is  to 
be  married  the  4th  of  Oct.),  and  Miss  Foote.    All  that  we  had 

*  Haydon's  most  long-suffering  of  landlords.  Newton  succeeded  him  in  the 
rooms.  —  Ed. 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


221 


to  regret  was  the  absence  of  yourself  and  your  brother,  of  which 
we  were  most  forcibly  reminded  by  scenes  we  were  sure  you 
would  have  enjoyed.  Do  you  recollect  an  old  fragment  of  an  oak 
which  I  believe  you  christened  "  Achilles  "  ?  On  three  several 
days  did  that  oak  hear  your  name  sighed  forth  as  mournfully  as 
ever  poor  Yorick's  Avas.  You  must  remember  a  noble  grove  of 
beech,  covering  a  hill  which  commands  a  fine  view  of  the  castle, 
and  separated  by  the  road  from  a  very  beautiful  group  of  ash 
trees.  I  am  sure  you  would  willingly  have  exchanged  all  the 
pleasures  of  Parjs  to  have  been  one  in  a  game  of  "  puss  in  the 
corner,"  which  succeeded  to  a  considerable  destruction  of  bread 
and  jam  under  those  beeches.  Newton  and  myself  returned  to 
town  yesterday,  and  he,  finding  that  Perkins  had  just  succeeded 
in  rendering  his  rooms  completely  uninhabitable,  was  obliged  to 
sleep  with  me,  and  set  off  again  this  morning  for  Winkfield. 
Finding  that  I  am  not  wanted  in  town,  I  expect  to  follow  him 
to-morrow,  and  remain  there  the  few  days  longer  that  the  rest  of 
the  party  stay. 

London,  Oct.  18,  1820. 

Dear  Irving,  —  *  *  *  ***  *****  I  have  little  to  say 
about  myself  since  I  last  wrote.  I  am  going  on  with  my  pic- 
ture,* and  now  show  it  to  whoever  wishes  to  see  it.  I  find  the 
subject  pleases  generally  very  much,  and  I  am  getting  still  more 
interested  in  it  myself.  Newton  tells  me  he  has  written  to  you. 
I  suppose  he  has  told  you  to  come  back.  If  I  were  in  your 
place  (as  I  am  not  aware  of  any  important  object  you  have  in 
staying  abroad),  I  would  consult  only  my  inclinations,  and  not 
endeavour  to  reconcile  myself  to  an  absence  from  England  as  a 
matter  of  duty  if  I  felt  strongly  the  wish  to  return.  With  regard 
to  writing,  I  think  you  will  always  please  yourself  best  where 
you  feel  most  at  home.  However,  all  advice  of  this  kind 
is  most  probably  useless  if  not  annoying,  for  we  have  always 
motives  for  our  plans,  which  cannot  be  fully  understood  by  others. 
I  wish,  however,  you  would  let  me  know  what  is  the  probable 
period  of  your  absence.    I  feel  lopsided  without  you. 

The  Americans  are  all  highly  pleased  by  the  Edinburgh  Review 
*  The  May-day.  —  Ed. 


222 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1S20. 


of  the  '  Sketch  Book ' ;  and  no  one  that  I  have  seen  appears 
more  gratified  by  it  than  the  immortal  Brockedon,  who  sends  his 
very  best  regards  to  you. 

Yours  very  truly, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

A  Monsieur  W.  Irving, 

Aux  soins  de  Messrs.  Welles  et  Williams, 
26,  Rue  Faubourg  Poissoniere, 
a  Paris. 

Paris,  Oct.  31,  1820. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  have  received  two  letters  from  you, 
and  ought  to  have  replied  long  before  this,  but  I  have  been  out 
of  the  mood  for  letter-writing,  and  so  have  deferred  it  from  clay 
to  day,  and  so  time  has  run  on.  I  now  write  in  great  haste,  to 
avail  myself  of  an  opportunity  free  of  expense.  I  have  just 
received  a  very  long  and  friendly  letter  from  Mr.  Murray,  who  in 
fact  has  overwhelmed  me  with  eulogiums.  It  appears  that  my 
writings  are  selling  well,  and  he  is  multiplying  editions.  I  am 
very  glad  to  find  that  he  has  made  your  acquaintance,  and  still 
more,  that  he  has  taken  a  great  liking  to  you.  He  speaks  of 
you  in  the  most  gratifying  terms.  He  has  it  in  his  power  to  be 
of  service  to  you,  and  I  trust  he  will  be.  He  tells  me  he  has  re- 
quested you  to  look  over  Knickerbocker  for  subjects  for  eight  or 
ten  sketches,  and  the  Sketch  Book  for  a  couple,  and  he  wishes 
me  to  assist  you  with  my  opinion  on  the  subject.  I  will  look 
over  the  books,  and  write  to  you  in  a  day  or  two.  Murray  is 
going  to  make  me  so  fine  in  print  that  I  shall  hardly  know  myself. 
Could  not  Allston's  design  be  reduced  without  losing  the  charac- 
teristic humour  of  it  ?  I  am  delighted  to  find  that  your  labours 
are  to  be  thus  interwoven  with  mine,  so  that  Ave  shall  have  a  kind 
of  joint  interest  and  pride  in  every  volume. 

My  dear  boy,  it  is  a  grievous  thing  to  be  separated  from  you, 
and  I  feel  it  more  and  more.  I  wish  to  heaven  this  world  were 
not  so  wide,  and  that  wre  could  manage  to  keep  more  together  in 
it  —  this  continual  separating  from  those  we  like  is  one  of  the 
curses  of  an  unsettled  life :  and  with  all  my  vagrant  habits  I  can- 
not get  accustomed  to  it. 

I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  getting  on  with  your  picture, 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


2^3 


and  that  you  are  more  and  more  pleased  with  it.  Depend  upon 
it,  it  is  one  of  those  pictures  that  will  do  you  very  essential  ser- 
vice. It  will  give  you  a  standing  with  men  whose  opinions  have 
great  weight  in  society  —  men  curious  in  literature  and  in  an- 
tiquities. The  picture  will  please  them,  as  showing  not  merely 
technical  skill,  and  the  ordinary  eye  for  the  picturesque  ;  but  as 
displaying  research,  mind,  and  strong  literary  feeling.  It  is  a 
highly  classical  English  subject.  I  hope  you  will  follow  it  up  by 
something  in  the  same  line  ;  the  researches  you  have  made  for 
the  picture  will  make  you  feel  more  at  home  in  another.  I  feel 
a  continual  want  to  be  with  you  and  Newton,  to  see  how  you 
both  get  on. 

I  had  a  very  acceptable  letter  from  Willis  a  few  days  since. 
Tell  him  I  will  write  to  him  soon,  but  I  must  first  write  to  Peter 
Powell,  to  whom  I  am  in  debt.  I  have  so  many  persons  to  write 
to  in  England  and  America,  that  being  a  very  lazy  letter-writer, 
it  is  but  now  and  then  I  can  bring  a  letter  to  bear  upon  each. 
Mr.  Tappan  who  bears  this  letter,  told  me,  that  it  was  the  wish 
of  Fairman  and  yourself,  that  an  engraving  should  be  made  from 
the  likeness  you  have  of  me.  It  is  a  matter  I  do  not  feel  so 
much  objection  to,  as  I  did  formerly,  having  been  so  much  upon 
the  town  lately  as  to  have  lost  much  of  my  modesty.  And  as  I 
understand,  that  there  has  been  some  spurious  print  of  my  phiz 
in  America,  I  do  not  care  if  another  is  made  to  push  it  out  of 
sight.  You  will  only  be  careful  to  finish  the  picture  so  as  not  to 
give  it  too  fixed  and  precise  a  fashion  of  dress.  I  preferred  the 
costume  of  Newton's  likeness  of  me,  which  was  trimmed  with 
fur.  These  modern  dresses  are  apt  to  give  a  paltry  common- 
place air. 

Give  my  love  to  all  the  lads,  and  believe  me  most  affectionate- 
ly yours,  W.  I. 

P.  S.  I  can  give  you  no  idea  when  I  shall  return  to  England. 
I  have  no  plan  on  the  subject. 

Parts,  Nov.  30th,  1820. 
My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  cannot  let  Mr.  Marx  depart  without 
scrawling  you  a  line.    I  hear  that  you  are  getting  on  with  the 
sketches  for  Knickerbocker,  and  that  you  have  executed  one  on 


224 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1820. 


the  same  subject  Alls  ton  once  chose,  viz  :  '  Peter  Stuyvesant  re- 
buking the  Cobbler. '  I  wish  you  could  drop  me  a  line  and  let 
me  know  what  subjects  you  execute,  and  how  you  and  Murray 
make  out  together.  I  hear  that  you  have  taken  the  "  Childe  "  to 
Murray's  ;  you  have  only  to  make  him  acquainted  with  Willis 
and  Peter  Powell,  and  he  will  then  be  able  to  make  one  at  your 
tea-kettle  debauches.  I  have  just  made  a  brief  but  very  pleasant 
excursion  into  Lower  Normandy  in  company  with  Mr.  Ritchie. 
I  must  refer  you  to  a  letter  scribbled  to  Peter  Powell  for  a  full 
and  faithful  narrative  of  this  tour.  I  have  never  been  more 
pleased  with  any  tour  that  I  have  made.  The  little  towns  of 
Lower  Normandy  seem  to  have  been  built  and  peopled  with  an 
eye  to  the  picturesque.  The  fine  gothic  churches,  the  old  quaint 
architecture  of  the  private  houses,  the  beauty  of  the  common 
people,  particularly  the  peasantry,  their  peculiar  costumes,  all 
form  continual  pictures.  But  I  believe  you  will  get  a  better 
idea  of  them  from  the  sketches  of  Lewis  than  from  any  descrip- 
tion that  I  can  furnish.  By-the-bye,  I  saw  the  card  of  one  of 
the  Lewises  in  the  hands  of  a  young  man  of  the  college  at 
Falaise,  who  accompanied  me  about  the  beautiful  ruins  of  the 
castle  where  William  the  Conqueror  was  born.  He  told  me  that 
Lewis  had  taken  several  sketches  of  the  castle ;  it  certainly  is  a 
most  picturesque  morsel  of  antiquity.  I  anticipate  great  pleasure 
some  future  day  in  looking  over  Lewis's  sketches  again,  and  re- 
calling some  of  the  curious  old  buildings  and  streets  of  the  Nor- 
man towns. 

I  received  a  letter  a  few  days  since  from  Newton  by  Miss 
Peat.  She  had  been  some  time  on  the  way  to  Paris,  and  the 
letter  was  of  an  old  date.  I  shall  write  to  Newton  the  next  op- 
portunity, and  likewise  to  Willis,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  a 
most  agreeable  letter.  I  find  by  the  Lymans  that  the  Sloane 
Street  romance  *  is  still  unfinished,  and  that  materials  are  daily 
springing  up  for  another  volume  ;  that  Jones  has  retired  to  either 
a  convent  or  a  nailery  in  the  neighborhood  of  Birmingham ;  and 
that  Newton  is  busy  with  a  brush  in  each  hand  and  his  hair 

*  Apropos  of  Newton's  escapades.  The  Ann  referred  to  was  a  beautiful  girl 
with  whom  he  was  in  love  about  this  time.  Poor  Newton's  normal  state  was 
one  of  passionate  furore  for  some  beauty  or  other. 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


225 


standing  on  end  turning  Ann's  portraits  into  likenesses  of  Mary- 
Queen  of  Scots,  General  Washington,  and  the  Lord  knows  who  ; 
"  there  never  was  such  times  !  " 

Let  me  hear  from  you  often,  and  don't  wait  for  my  replies,  as  I 
am  if  possible  more  averse  to  letter-writing  even  than  Allston. 
This  is  written  in  bed,  which  must  account  for  its  defects. 

Paris,  1820. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  have  been  intending  this  long  time 
past  to  write  to  you,  and  a  good  intention  of  long  standing  is  a 
matter  to  boast  of  in  this  naughty  world.  How  comes  on  your 
picture  ?  I  presume  it  is  nearly  finished.  Did  you  call  on  Sir 
Walter  Scott  while  he  was  in  town,  and  ask  him  to  look  at  it  ? 
If  not,  you  have  behaved  shabbily.  I  presume  before  this  you 
have  seen  Miss  Foote ;  I  intended  to  have  written  by  her,  but 
was  occupied  at  the  time,  and  let  the  opportunity  slip  unimproved. 
I  have  heard  that  you  are  to  pass  some  months  at  Windsor,  to 
copy  several  of  Sir  Peter  Lely's  pictures,  for  some  lord  or  other. 
Is  this  the  case  ?  and  if  so  when  do  you  go  there  ?  It  will  be  a 
charming  situation  for  you  during  the  summer  months.  Let  me 
know  who  this  lord  is  who  has  taken  you  into  favour.  I  find  by 
Newton's  letter,  that  he  and  the  old  Euphuist,  the  cidevant  jeune 
homme  that  haunts  exhibitions,  have  become  sworn  friends.  I 
presume  the  "  Childe's "  new  fledged  reputation  will  introduce 
him  into  a  great  deal  of  dilettante  society,  and  that  good  company 
will  come  nigh  to  be  the  ruin  of  him.  I  have  been  sadly  bothered 
with  the  same  evil  of  late,  and  have  had  to  fight  shy  of  invita- 
tions that  would  exhaust  time  and  spirits.  The  most  interesting 
acquaintance  I  have  made  in  Paris,  is  Moore  the  poet,  who  is 
very  much  to  my  taste.  I  see  him  almost  every  day,  and  feel  as 
if  I  had  known  him  for  a  lifetime.  He  is  a  noble-hearted,  manly, 
spirited,  little  fellow,  with  a  mind  as  generous  as  his  fancy  is 
brilliant.  I  hope  you  have  better  weather  in  London  than  we 
have  in  Paris.  Such  a  spring !  Nothing  but  rain  in  torrents ; 
and  cold  boisterous  winds.  They  may  say  what  they  please  of 
London  weather ;  I  never  passed  a  more  dirty,  rainy  season  in 
London  than  this  last  winter  has  been  in  Paris;  and  then  the 
streets  are  so  detestable  in  dirty  weather,  that  there  is  no  walking 
15 


226 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1820. 


in  them.  My  only  consolation  at  such  times  is  the  vicinity  of 
the  Garden  of  the  Tuileries,  which  is  but  a  short  distance  from 
my  lodgings;  and  which  I  consider  as  a  park  attached  to  my 
mansion  —  though  I  must  own,  I  prefer  my  park  of  St.  James' 
and  Kensington  Gardens  —  the  latter  particularly,  as  it  has  glori- 
ous lawns  of  green  grass  that  I  can  roll  on  ;  whereas  in  the 
Tuileries,  there  is  no  place  to  rest,  except  one  sit  on  a  cursed  cold 
stone  bench ;  or  pays  two  sous  for  a  vile  straw-bottomed  chair. 
I  am  scrawling  as  fast  as  my  pen  can  go,  for  I  find  it  is  near  the 
time  of  closing  the  post-office,  and  I  am  determined  this  letter 
shall  go  by  mail,  though  it  cost  me  fifteen  sous.  I  wish  you  would 
take  pen  in  hand  at  once,  and  let  me  know  how  you  are  getting 
on  with  your  picture,  —  what  else  you  are  about  —  when  you  go 
to  Windsor  —  how  long  you  stay  there  —  who  you  are  to  paint 
the  pictures  for  —  what  subject  you  have  in  view  for  your  next 
painting  —  what  Newton  is  doing  —  what  Luke  is  doing,  and 
what  Peter  Powell  is  doing  ?  Answer  these  questions,  and  then 
you  may  add  what  you  please.  I  have  given  you  a  scheme  for  a 
letter ;  when  it  is  done  do  not  wait  for  private  hand,  but  send  it 
per  post :  never  mind  the  postage  for  once.  I  want  exceedingly 
to  hear  from  you  —  the  sooner  the  better. 

London,  Dec.  3,  1820. 

Dear  Irving,  —  I  should  have  answered  your  letter  sooner, 
but  I  hoped  to  have  heard  from  you  again  on  the  subject  of  the 
designs  for  Mr.  Murray.  The  subjects  I  have  chosen  are,  a 
Dutch  fire-side,  with  an  old  negro  telling  stories  to  the  children  ; 
William  the  Testy,  suspending  a  vagrant  by  the  breeches  on  his 
patent  gallows  ;  Peter  Stuyvesant  confuting  the  Cobbler ;  and 
Anthony  Van  Corlear  taking  leave  of  the  young  vrows.  All  of 
these  I  have  finished  except  the  last,  and  Mr.  Murray  appears  to 
be  highly  pleased  with  them. 

He  is  delighted  with  Allston's  picture  of  '  Wouter  Van  Twil- 
ler,'  which  will  be  engraved  with  the  rest.  He  talks  a  great  deal 
about  you  whenever  I  see  him  in  terms  of  the  highest  praise  and 
friendship.  The  '  Sketch  Book '  is  entirely  out  of  print.  I  do 
not  know  whether  you  will  be  angry  with  me  or  approve  what  I 
am  going  to  tell  you.    Collins,  to  whom  I  had  lent  the  '  Sketch 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


227 


Book/  observed  that  in  the  article  of  the  '  Widow's  Son '  a  pas- 
sage runs  thus,  "  The  service  being  ended,  they  proceeded  to 
lower  the  coffin  into  the  grave."  Now  he  remarked  that  the 
coffin  is  always  lowered  into  the  grave  during  the  service  or 
previous  to  it,  for  at  the  words  "ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  to 
dust"  some  earth  is  thrown  in  upon  it.  When  he  came  to  this  pas- 
sage he  said  it  destroyed  the  illusion,  for  the  story  had  taken  the 
strongest  hold  of  his  feelings,  and  he  had  been  convinced  that  he 
was  reading  an  account  of  a  real  scene.  I  took  the  liberty  there- 
fore of  suggesting  to  Mr.  Murray  to  leave  out  these  few  words 
"the  service  being  ended,"  which  without  any  other  alteration 
does  away  with  the  objection  to  the  passage.  I  am  afraid  you 
will  be  displeased  with  my  meddling,  which  I  should  on  no  ac- 
count have  dared  to  do  had  not  the  alteration  been  so  very  small. 
There  was  not  time  to  write  and  hear  from  you,  as  the  volume  is 
in  press,  and  it  is  probable  after  all  that  the  suggestion  was  too 
late  for  the  forthcoming  edition. 

I  enjoyed  very  much  the  renewal  of  my  acquaintance  with  my 
old  friend  '  Diedrich.'  I  have  the  highest  respect  and  admiration 
for  the  old  gentleman,  which  is  certainly  increased  by  my  late  in- 
tercourse with  him,  but  I  must  say  that  in  some  of  his  jokes  he 
goes  near  to  be  thought  a  little  indelicate.  Now  these  jokes  of 
the  old  gentleman  being  very  few  and  not  among  his  best,  I 
really  think  he  would  not  suffer  by  dispensing  with  them  in  future. 
Forgive  this  remark  if  you  do  not  agree  with  it.     *     *  * 

Peter  Powell  has  composed  an  answer  to  the  letter  he  expects 
from  you,  and  is  afraid  it  won't  keep  much  longer.  Whenever 
your  plans  are  fixed  let  us  know  ;  that  is,  if  they  tend  towards 
your  return  to  London.  We  shall  not  be  so  anxious  to  hear  of 
any  others.  For  my  part  I  feel  the  loss  of  your  society  as  much 
as  I  did  at^  first.  You  came  to  London  just  when  I  was  losing 
Allston,  and  I  stood  in  need  of  an  intimate  friend  of  similar 
tastes  with  my  own.  I  not  only  owe  to  you  some  of  the  hap- 
piest social  hours  of  my  life,  but  you  opened  to  me  a  new  range 
of  observation  in  my  own  art,  and  a  perception  of  qualities  and 
characters  of  things  which  painters  do  not  always  imbibe  from 
each  other. 


228 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1820. 


P.  S.  Newton,  Willis,  and  Powell  send  their  love.  The 
"  Childe  "  has  finished  his  picture  from  Moliere,*  and  has  been 
drawing  for  some  time  at  the  Academy. 

Remember  me  affectionately  to  your  brother. 

Paris,  Dec.  19th,  1820. 
My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  have  just  received  yours  of  the  3rd. 
I  like  all  the  subjects  that  you  have  chosen  for  the  designs,  ex- 
cept that  of  William  the  Testy  suspending  the  vagabond  by  the 
breeches.  The  circumstance  is  not  of  sufficient  point  or  char- 
acter in  the  history  to  be  illustrated.  Still  it  may  have  struck 
you  in  a  different  manner,  and  have  afforded  scope  for  humorous 
sketching.  I  had  hoped  to  hear  from  Mr.  Murray  before  this, 
and  to  have  received  a  copy  of  1  Knickerbocker '  and  of  the 
'  Sketch  Book '  you  mention.  I  pointed  him  out  a  mode  of 
forwarding  books  to  me,  but  I  presume  he  has  been  too  much 
hurried  to  attend  to  it.  When  you  hear  of  a  private  opportunity, 
I  wish  you  would  ask  Mr.  Murray  for  copies  of  the  works,  and 
send  them  to  me.  I  received  a  letter  from  Peter  Powell,  in 
which  he  speaks  of  my  portrait  being  in  the  engraver's  hands, 
and  that  it  is  painted  in  the  old  Venetian  costume.  I  hope  you 
have  not  misunderstood  my  meaning,  when  I  spoke  about  the 
costume  in  which  I  should  like  it  to  be  painted.  I  believe  I 
spoke  something  about  the  costume  of  Newton's  portrait.  I 
meant  Newton's  portrait  of  me,  not  of  himself.  If  you  recollect 
he  painted  me  as  if  in  some  kind  of  overcoat,  with  a  fur  cape  —  a 
dress  that  had  nothing  in  it  remarkable,  but  which  merely  avoided 
any  present  fashion  that  might  in  a  few  years  appear  stupid.  The 
Venetian  dress  which  Newton  painted  himself  in  would  have  a 
fantastic  appearance,  and  savour  of  affectation.  If  it  is  not  too 
late,  I  should  like  to  have  the  thing  altered.  Let  the  costume  be 
simple  and  picturesque,  but  such  a  one  as  a  gentleman  might  be 
supposed  to  wear  occasionally  at  the  present  day.  I  only  wanted 
you  to  avoid  the  edges  and  corners  and  angles  with  which  a 
modern  coat  is  so  oddly  and  formally  clipped  out  at  the  present 
day. 

I  have  not  the  '  Sketch  Book '  at  hand  to  refer  to,  so  as  to  see 
*  The  Lovers'  Quarrel,  from  Le  D^pit  Amoureux.  (Engraved.) 


1820.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


229 


that  the  measure  and  melody  of  the  sentence  is  not  injured  by 
the  omission  you  mention  in  the  story  of  the  'Widow  and  her 
Son.'  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  correction.  When 
I  look  over  '  Knickerbocker/  to  prepare  the  new  edition,  I  will 
attend  to  your  hint  about  pruning  any  indelicate  parts.  As  I 
have  no  plan  fixed  that  points  immediately  to  England,  it  is 
needless  to  say  anything  on  the  subject.  Indeed,  my  chief  care 
as  yet  must  be  to  keep  quiet,  and  endeavour  to  write  something 
more  for  publication ;  if  I  move  about  and  shift  my  situation,  I 
disturb  my  thoughts,  unsettle  my  habits,  and  lose  a  great  deal  of 
time ;  and  if  I  lose  much  more  time,  I  shall  have  the  spectre  of 
an  empty  purse  haunting  me.  I  am  obliged,  therefore,  to  pitch 
my  tent  for  a  time  until  I  can  make  money  enough  to  secure  me 
from  want  for  two  or  three  years.  The  change  from  London  to 
Paris  deranged  me  completely.  I  am  now  getting  into  train 
again ;  but  a  return  to  England  would  unsettle  me  again  for  a 
long  time.  I  received  not  long  since  a  most  flattering  invitation 
from  Earl  Spencer  and  his  lady  to  pass  the  Christmas  Holidays 
at  their  seat  at  Althorp.  The  invitation  was  forwarded  by  Mr. 
Rush,  and  was  given  in  a  manner  peculiarly  gratifying.  If  I 
were  in  England  now,  an  invitation  or  two  of  this  kind  would 
make  me  a  good-for-nothing  gentlemanly  fellow  for  a  month.  I 
understand  you  have  introduced  Newton  to  Mr.  Mackay.*  He 
and  the  "  Childe "  will  like  each  other.  Tell  Peter  Powell  I 
cannot  answer  his  letter  until  I  have  answered  one  which  I  re- 
ceived from  Willis  an  age  ago.  I  hope  Newton  will  commence 
another  picture  soon,  otherwise  he  will  stand  a  chance  of  falling 

into  the  hands  of  the  ,  or  some  other  pretty  girls,  and  paint 

himself  into  a  scrape  again.  Powell  speaks  of  some  fine  portrait 
which  he  has  painted  of  a  gentleman,  and  which  is  considered 
his  chef  d'ceuvre,  but  does  not  say  whose  portrait  it  is.  I  hope 
it  is  some  one  of  consequence  that  may  get  him  into  notice. 

Give  my  hearty  regards  to  Newton,  Willis,  Powell,  the  Boll- 
mans,  the  Hoffmans,  and  all  our  little  circle  of  intimates.  My 
brother  desires  likewise  to  be  particularly  remembered. 

Yours  ever,  W.  I. 

*  Author  of  a  very  learned  book  on  the  '  Progress  of  the  Intellect  in  relation 
to  Religious  Belief  —  a  great  friend  of  Leslie's.  —  Ed. 


230 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1820. 


London,  Dec.  24,  1820. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  received  yesterday  yours  of  the  19th, 
and  hasten  to  relieve  your  mmd  from  any  apprehension  you  may 
entertain  with  regard  to  the  costume  of  your  portrait,  which  is 
still  in  my  room,  exactly  in  the  state  in  which  you  last  saw  it.  I 
shall  finish  it  in  a  day  or  two,  strictly  according  to  your  wishes. 
The  Venetian  dress  was  only  a  phantom  of  Peter  Powell's  imag- 
ination, conjured  up  to  disturb  your  evening  dreams. 

I  called  on  Mr.  Murray  yesterday,  (who  seems  to  be  up  to  the 
ears  in  business),  and  told  him  of  the  opportunities  of  sending 
anything  to  you.  My  officiously  suggested  alteration  in  '  The 
Widow's  Son,'  was  too  late  to  be  introduced  into  the  new  edition, 
which  is  of  a  small  octavo  size  and  very  handsome.  Perhaps,  as 
you  say,  it  might  have  injured  the  melody  of  the  sentence,  and  I 
now  see  that  I  was  wrong  in  taking  such  a  liberty. 

The  reason  I  chose  the  subject  of  '  William  Kieft's  Gallows,' 
was  that  Mr.  Murray  wished  one  design  at  least  from  the  reign 
of  each  governor,  and  I  was  a  little  puzzled  in  finding  one  that 
could  be  brought  within  a  small  compass,  from  that  part  of  the 
book.  I  was  somewhat  fearful  of  it  myself,  but  Newton  thinks 
you  would  like  it.  Mr.  Murray  appeared  pleased  with  it ;  I  will 
however  mention  your  objection  to  it,  and  if  he  agrees  with  you  I 
will  take  something  else  from  the  same  reign. 

It  was  at  Mr.  Murray's  own  request  that  I  introduced  Newton 
to  him.  The  portrait  by  Newton,  that  Powell  eulogised  so  highly, 
is  Peter  himself ;  it  is  less  than  life,  and  perhaps  the  best,  as  to 
likeness,  the  "  Childe  "  has  painted.  We  had  heard  a  rumour  of 
Earl  Spencer's  invitation  to  you,  and  were  very  glad  to  find  it 
confirmed  by  your  letter.  Miller  says  Geoffrey  Crayon  is  the 
most  fashionable  fellow  of  the  day.  I  am  very  much  inclined  to 
think  if  you  were  here  just  now,  "  company  would  be  the  spoil 
of  you."  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  talk  of  writing.  You  can 
be  at  no  loss  for  subjects  where  you  are  ;  indeed,  I  should  think 
your  principal  difficulty  will  be  to  determine  what  you  shall  not 
write  about.  Miller  told  me  of  your  brother's  concern  in  the 
steam-boat  establishment,  which  I  should  think  likely  to  answer 
his  best  expectations.    Remember  me  most  cordially  to  him. 


1821  ] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


231 


All  the  lads  join  in  wishing  you  both  a  merry  Christmas  and 
happy  new  year.  I  intended  appropriating  a  part  of  to-mor- 
row to  reading  your  Christmas  article.  I  shall  stick  up  your  por- 
trait before  my  face,  and  bury  myself  in  an  enormous  elbow  chair 
I  have  got,  over  which  "  Murphy  often  sheds  his  puppies,"  rely- 
ing on  the  book  I  shall  hold  in  my  hand  to  act  as  a  charm  against 
the  seductions  of  the  seat.  These  associations  are  the  best  means 
by  which  I  can  console  myself  for  your  absence.  I  received  the 
drawings  safe  by  Mr.  Marx. 


1821. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

May  Day  Revels  in  the  Time  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

"  The  characters  in  the  May  Games  consisted  of  Robin  Hood,  Maid 
Marian,  Friar  Tuck,  &c.  with  a  hobbyhorse,  fool,  and  dragon.  Among 
the  figures  in  the  foreground  of  the  picture,  the  antiquated  beau  in  the 
centre,  and  the  old  lady  on  the  right  hand,  are  intended  as  illustrations 
of  some  of  the  fopperies  of  that  age.    The  latter  is  followed  by  two 
blue-coated  serving-men,  and  a  domestic  fool. 
'  At  Paske  began  our  Morrice,  and  ere  Penticost  our  May, 
Then  Robin  Hood,  liell  John,  Friar  Tuck  and  Marian  deftly  play, 
And  Lord  and  Ladie  gang  till  Kiike  with  lads  and  lasses  gay.'  " 
—  Warner's  Albion's  England,  Chap.  xxiv.    (From  R.  A.  Catalogue,  1821.) 

(Exhibited  and  Engraved,  and  now  in  the  possession  of  John  Naylor, 
Esq.,  Leighton  Hall.) 

A  finished  study  of 1  The  May-day '  was  painted  for  Alaric  A.  Watts, 
and  sold  this  year  at  Christie  and  Manson's. 

Rebecca,  from  Ivanhoe.  (Painted  for  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne.)  —  Por- 
traits of  Mrs.  Fry  and  Samuel  Gurney.  —  A  Child  in  a  Car- 
dinal's Dress. 

This  year  Washington  Irving  returned  from  Paris,  to  Edgbas- 
ton  Castle,  the  seat  of  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Van  Wart,  where 
Leslie  paid  him  a  visit.  Irving  was  now  in  bad  health,  and  Les- 
lie, full  of  solicitude  for  his  friend,  was  anxious  he  should  come  up 
to  London  for  the  best  medical  advice.  Irving's  letters  show  the 
playfulness  of  the  writer,  even  under  severe  suffering ;  and  the 
correspondence  on  both  sides  illustrates  the  strong  attachment  of 
Leslie,  Irving,  and  their  "  set."    The  "  Childe  "  is  G.  S.  Newton, 


232 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


now  in  the  rapid  development  of  his  great  but  short-lived  power, 
and  materially  influencing  the  colour  of  Leslie,  as  is  apparent  from  a 
comparison  of  his  earlier  with  his  later  pictures,  when  Constable's 
white  chalk  had  got  the  better  of  him.  "  Father  Luke  "  is  Willis, 
an  Irishman,  and  a  landscape  painter ;  so  christened  after  the  jo- 
vial Friar  in  O'Keefe's  'Poor  Soldier.'  In  the  course  of  this  year, 
Leslie  was  elected  an  Associate  of  the  Royal  Academy.  His 
'  May  Day  '  *  won  him  great  honour  at  the  year's  Exhibition,  and 
with  good  reason,  for  it  is  one  of  the  most  inventive,  brilliant,  and 
pleasant  of  his  pictures.  This  picture  procured  him  the  pleasure 
of  Scott's  acquaintance.  The  fine  engraving  from  it  by  Watt,  is, 
no  doubt,  familiar  to  most  of  my  readers.  It  would  appear  from 
passages  in  some  of  Leslie's  letters,  that  Leslie  had  it  in  contem- 
plation to  paint  a  companion  picture  of  English  Christmas  Revels, 
but  he  never  carried  out  the  intention.  One  can  perfectly  under- 
stand Scott's  relish  of  the  '  May  Day.'  It  must  have  been  a  pic- 
ture after  his  own  heart,  full  as  it  is  of  old-world  rustic  manners 
and  merriment,  and  all  astir  with  the  wholesome,  fresh,  sunshiny, 
out-door  life  of  the  "  Merry  England,"  we  are  all  fain  to  believe 
in. 

London,  April  2nd,  1821. 

It  was  a  great  disappointment  to  me  to  hear  from  Miss  Foote 
that  you  intend  staying  abroad  all  summer  ;  for  I  had  somehow  or 
other  settled  it  in  my  mind  that  we  should  have  had  you  over  with 
the  fine  weather,  though  it  is  true  your  letters  gave  me  no  reason 
to  think  so.  Blue-green  fair  and  even  Greenwich  and  Fairlop 
will  lose  half  their  charms  for  me  without  you.  At  Greenwich  it 
is  true  we  shall  have  Peter  Powell,  who  has  taken  the  attic  of  a 
cottage  there  for  the  summer  ;  but  there  is  some  danger  that  Peter 
will  set  up  a  booth  for  the  exhibition  of  his  old  women,  or  else 
gallant  that  imaginary  bear  or  flock  of  sheep  through  the  crowd  ;f 
and  if  so  we  shall  have  but  little  good  of  him. 

I  am  now  within  a  week  of  finishing  my  'May  Day.'  Sir 
Walter  Scott  came  to  see  it,  and  nothing  could  be  more  gratifying 

*  See  my  Introductory  Essay. 

f  Alluding  to  Peter  Powell's  Drawing-room  Entertainments,  described  in  the 
Autobiography. 


1821.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


233 


than  the  opinion  he  expressed.  He  said  he  would  come  again  to 
see  it,  and  wanted  to  know  where  '  Sir  Roger '  *  was  that  he 
might  pay  him  a  visit.  His  manner  was  particularly  kind  and 
friendly.  He  talked  a  great  deal  about  you,  and  requested  me 
when  I  wrote  to  give  you  his  most  affectionate  regards.  Sir  Wal- 
ter is  sitting  to  Lawrence,  which  I  am  very  glad  of,  as  we  shall 
now  have  a  more  intellectual  portrait  of  him  than  any  of  the  oth- 
ers. Most  of  the  drawings  from  '  Knickerbocker '  are  with  the 
engravers.  There  is  little  hope  of  their  being  done  however  be- 
fore Christmas.  I  made  a  more  finished  one  from  the  sketch  of 
Rip  Van  Winkle  you  sent  me,  with  which  Murray  was  much 
pleased,  and  am  now  doing  another  of  Ichabod  Crane  teaching 
Katrina  to  sing,  which  is  the  last  I  am  to  do  for  him. 

The  Childe  has  made  a  very  brilliant  little  sketch  from  Moliere 
of  a  genteel  love  quarrel.  A  lady  and  gentleman  returning  mini- 
atures, letters,  &c,  &c.  —  the  lady's  maid  tittering  behind  the 
chair  of  her  mistress.  It  promises  to  be  his  best  picture.  Mar- 
tin's picture  of '  Belshazzar's  Feast '  has  gained  him  great  reputa- 
tion. He  has  sold  it,  and  received  a  commission  from  the  Mar- 
quis of  Buckingham  to  paint  the  '  Destruction  of  Herculaneum,'  a 
very  fine  subject  for  him.  I  find  I  am  writing  about  nothing  but 
pictures  to  you,  but  I  have  an  impression  that  the  Childe  has 
written  very  lately,  and  has  told  you  whatever  other  news  has 
occurred  in  our  circle.  Remember  me  most  affectionately  to 
your  brother.  Yours  truly, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
Paris. 

London,  April  20th,  1821. 
Dear  Betsey,  —  *  *  *  Until  within  the  last  fortnight  I  have 
been  closely  engaged  with  my  picture  of '  May  Day,'  which  is  at 
last  finished  and  sent  to  Somerset  House.  My  friends  are  san- 
guine as  to  its  success,  and  I  myself  consider  it  the  best  thing  I 
have  done.  Did  I  tell  you  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  painted  ?  It 
is  for  a  print;  and  I  am  to  have  two  hundred  guineas  for  it,  with 
the  privilege  of  selling  it,  if  I  can,  for  a  still  higher  price,  and  re- 
*  The  picture  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  going  to  Church. 


234 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1821- 


ceiving  the  difference,  under  the  condition  of  the  purchaser's  allow- 
ing the  engraving  to  be  taken  either  from  it  or  from  a  copy.  Sir 
Walter  Scott  has  been  lately  in  London,  and  came  twice  to  see  it 
when  in  progress :  the  first  visit  I  had  taken  the  liberty  to  request, 
but  the  second,  which  you  may  believe  gratified  me  not  a  little, 
was  of  his  own  proposing.  He  found  fault  with  nothing  in  my 
picture,  but  suggested  the  introduction  of  a  few  archers,  a  hint  of 
which  I  took  advantage.  His  hearty  kindness  of  manner  is  pecu- 
liarly delightful. 

The  first  day  he  called,  I  was  so  intoxicated  with  delight  by  an 
honour  which,  though  I  had  solicited,  I  scarcely  expected,  know- 
ing how  fully  he  was  engaged,  that  I  could  not  paint  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day.  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  has  painted  an 
inimitable  head  of  him.  I  am  extremely  obliged  by  your  candid, 
and  as  I  feel  them  to  be  very  just,  remarks  on  my  defects  in 
colour,  chiaroscuro,  &c,  which,  be  assured,  I  shall  spare  no  pains 
to  correct  as  much  as  possible,  though  in  these  important  points, 
I  have  little  hope  of  ever  excelling,  least  of  all  in  colour,  for 
which  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  a  good  natural  eye. 

London,  May  25,  1821. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  received  some  time  ago  the  letter  you 
enclosed  in  a  packet  to  Newton,  and  should  have  answered  it 
sooner  but  for  various  reasons,  the  principal  and  best  one  an  utter 
distaste  to  letter- writing,  even  to  you.  I  have  little  to  say,  for 
we  are  all  rather  dull  at  present  and  miss  you  more  than  ever. 

My  picture  has  been  as  successful  with  the  public  as  my  most 
sanguine  friends  could  have  anticipated.  It  is  very  well  placed, 
but  I  have  lately  been  seeing  such  fine  things  of  the  old  masters 
at  the  private  galleries,  that  I  am  quite  out  of  conceit  of  it  my- 
self. The  more  I  see  of  the  Dutch  School,  the  more  I  venerate 
them,  and  the  more  hopeless  appears  the  chance  of  ever  coming 
near  them.  One  of  the  greatest  treats  I  ever  had,  was  lately  at 
Mr.  Hope's  Gallery,  who  has  the  finest  collection  in  London. 
There  is  a  very  good  exhibition  open  at  the  British  Gallery  of 
the  old  masters.  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  think  of  another 
subject;  can  you  help  me  to  one?  Mr.  Murray  wants  me  to 
paint  him  a  picture.    He  would  have  bought  the  '  May  Day,'  but 


1821.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


235 


it  is  too  large  for  his  room.  The  plates  for  your  works  are  all  in 
the  hands  of  the  engravers. 

Newton  is  copying  his  picture  of  the  i  Importunate  Author ' 
for  the  Earl  of  Carlisle.  Peter  Coxe  has  volunteered  to  sit  for 
the  poet.  Luke's  doings  are  at  present  with  closed  doors,  en- 
veloped in  mystery. 

Peter  Powell  is  enjoying  the  rainy  weather  at  Greenwich. 
We  have  heard  that  you  are  getting  to  like  Paris,  and  that  you 
intend  spending  the  summer  in  Normandy. 

The  exhibition  this  year  is  a  very  good  one,  Lawrence  has 
sent  his  best  portraits.  Wilkie  has  a  beautiful  little  interior. 
The  subject  he  calls  '  Guess  my  Name.'  There  is  a  fine  buxom 
lass  running  into  the  room  (which  is  the  inside  of  a  cottage)  and 
blinding  the  eyes  of  a  young  man  who  sits  at  the  table  writing  a 
letter.  The  effect  of  the  sun  shining  into  the  window  is  quite 
magical.  Mulready  has  a  very  clever  picture  of  a  girl  just  about 
to  thrash  a  boy  who  has  been  sent  of  an  errand  and  is  playing  at 
marbles.  He  has  set  down  a  young  child  and  a  pound  of  candles, 
and  both  are  melting  in  the  sun. 

Young  Landseer  has  a  most  exquisite  picture  of  dogs  hunting 
rats  with  a  ferret,  full  of  expression.  Etty's  *  Cleopatra '  is  a 
splendid  triumph  of  colour.  It  has  some  defects  of  composition, 
but  is  full  of  passages  of  that  exquisite  kind  of  beauty,  which  he 
alone  can  give. 

All  our  clan  unite  with  me  in  love  to  you  and  your  brother. 

Ever  yours,  C.  R.  Leslie. 

Washington  Irving, 
Paris. 

FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Edgbaston  Castle,  Oct.  Qth,  1821. 
My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  have  been  looking  for  a  letter  from 
you  every  day.  Why  don't  you  drop  me  a  line  ?  It  would  be 
particularly  cheering  just  now.  I  have  not  been  out  of  the 
house  since  you  left  here;  having  been  much  indisposed  by  a 
cold,  I  am  at  the  mercy  of  every  breath  of  air  that  blows.  I 
have  had  pains  in  my  head,  my  face  swollen,  and  yesterday 


236 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


passed  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  bed,  which  is  a  very  extra- 
ordinary thing  for  me.  To-day  I  feel  better ;  but  I  am  sadly  out 
of  order,  and  what  especially  annoys  me  is  that  I  see  day  after 
day  and  week  after  week  passing  away  without  being  able  to  do 
anything.  The  little  folks  lament  your  departure  extremely. 
George  has  made  his  appearance  in  a  new  pair  of  Grimaldi 
breeches,  with  pockets  full  as  deep  as  the  former.  To  balance 
his  ball  and  marbles  he  has  the  opposite  pocket  filled  with  a  peg- 
top  and  a  prodigious  quantity  of  dry  peas,  so  that  he  can  only  he 
comfortably  on  his  back  or  his  belly.  The  three  eldest  boys  kept 
the  house  in  misery  for  two  or  three  days  by  pea-blowers,  which 
they  had  bought,  at  an  enormous  price,  of  a  tin-man.  They  at 
last  broke  the  blowers,  and  George  pocketed  the  peas.  He  says 
he  means  to  take  care  of  them  till  his  brothers  come  home  at 
Christmas.  Have  you  begun  any  new  picture  yet,  or  have  you 
any  immediately  in  contemplation?  I  received  a  letter  from 
Newton,  which  I  presume  was  forwarded  by  your  direction. 
Why  did  you  not  open  it?  It  was  dated  the  15th  September. 
He  had  arrived  but  two  or  three  days" ;  had  sailed  up  the  Seine 
from  Havre  to  Rouen,  with  my  brothers  in  the  steam-boat.  He 
had  dined  with  Morse ;  had  passed  a  day  in  the  Louvre,  where 
he  met  Wilkie,  and  strolled  the  gallery  with  him.  He  speaks  in 
raptures  of  the  Louvre.  He  says  it  strikes  him  in  quite  a  differ- 
ent way  from  what  it  did  when  he  was  there  before.  He  intended 
to  go  to  work  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  and  expected  to  pass  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  there. 

Have  you  seen  Murray  ?  When  you  see  him  you  need  not 
say  where  I  am.  I  want  the  quiet  and  not  to  be  bothered  in  any 
way.  Tell  him  I  am  in  a  country  doctor's  hands,  at  Edgbaston, 
somewhere  in  Warwickshire.  I  think  that  will  puzzle  any  one, 
as  Edgbaston  has  been  built  only  within  a  year  or  two.  Get  me 
all  the  pleasant  news  you  can,  and  then  sit  down  in  the  evening 
and  scribble  a  letter,  without  minding  points  or  fine  terms.  My 
sister  is  very  anxious  to  hear  of  you.  You  have  quite  won  her 
heart,  not  so  much  by  your  merits,  as  by  your  attention  to  the 
children.  By  the  way,  the  little  girls  have  become  very  fond  of 
the  pencil  since  you  were  here,  and  are  continually  taking  their 
dolls'  likenesses.  Ever  yours,  W.  I. 


1821.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


237 


The  following  joint  letter  from  Leslie  and  his  quaint  little 
friend  and  present  chum,  Peter  Powell,  gives  a  pleasant  peep 
into  their  cheerful,  innocent,  scrambling  student  life :  — 

London,  Oct.  22nd,  1821. 
My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  should  have  replied  to  your  letter  of 
the  7th  immediately,  but  as  I  had  written  to  you  the  day  before  I 
received  it,  I  thought  by  waiting  a  few  days  I  might  have  an 
answer  to  that  to  reply  to  at  the  same  time.  I  hope  you  have 
now  weathered  out  the  severe  attack  you  have  had.  I  regretted 
very  much  when  I  found  you  had  been  so  ill,  that  I  had  not 
stayed  a  week  longer  at  Birmingham.  If  I  did  not  know  that 
there  may  be  many  causes  beside  sickness  for  your  delaying  to 
write  to  me,  I  should  now  be  in  great  anxiety  from  not  having 
received  an  answer  to  my  letter.  I  hope,  however,  you  will  write 
immediately  to  let  us  know  how  you  are.  If  you  are  too  busy, 
or  not  in  the  mood  to  send  a  regular  letter,  a  single  line  will  do. 
Powell  and  I  commenced  housekeeping  a  week  ago.  It  is  prob- 
able that  nothing  will  more  astonish  you  on  your  return  than  the 
metamorphosis  at  Buckingham  Place.  Not  to  speak  of  window 
curtains,  a  pianoforte,  small  knives  and  plates  at  breakfast,  you 
will  be  surprised  to  find  an  academy  established  on  the  principle 
of  mutual  education  in  various  branches  of  learning  and  the  fine 
arts.  During  breakfast  Powell  gives  me  a  lesson  in  French.  At 
five  we  both  study  carving.  After  tea  I  teach  him  to  draw  the 
figures,  and  at  odd  times  he  instructs  himself  in  German  and  the 
pianoforte,  and  once  a  week  he  unfolds  to  me  the  mysteries  of 
political  economy  according  to  Cobbett.  Instruction  is  even  ex- 
tended beyond  our  walls,  as  far  indeed  as  Sloane  Street,  where 
Powell  delivers  a  weekly  lecture  on  perspective.  In  this  way  we 
pass  the  time ;  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  if  I  get  through  the 
winter  as  I  have  passed  the  last  week,  and  with  you  and  Newton 
here,  it  will  be  the  most  agreeable  one  I  shall  have  spent  in 
London.  I  was  glad  to  hear  of  Newton  from  you.  I  did  not  see 
his  letter  or  I  should  have  opened  it.  I  am  at  present  painting 
the  portraits  of  two  little  girls,  and  making  a  drawing  from  the 
4  Royal  Poet,'  the  incident  of  the  dove  flying  into  the  window.* 
*  From  Irving's  '  Sketch  Book.' 


238 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


Powell  has  promised  to  fill  up  the  sheet,  I  must  therefore  bid  you 
good-bye.  Luke  is  well,  and  sends  his  love  to  you.  I  have  not 
yet  seen  Mr.  Murray.  I  was  very  much  diverted  with  your 
account  of  George. 

Yours  ever, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

P.  S.  I  know  not  that  it  is  in  my  power  to  add  much  to  the 
description  my  affectionate  chum  has  given  of  our  perfect  happi- 
ness, except  that  by  a  new  philosophical  arrangement  of  mine, 
long  legs  have  been  prohibited  from  engrossing  the  whole  of  the 
fireplace,  and  little  legs  stand  a  much  greater  chance  than  formerly 
of  getting  their  shins  warmed,  and  much  less  of  getting  them 
kicked.  The  simple  means  by  which  I  have  effected  this  is  truly 
admirable,  but  I  apprehend  that  a  much  more  elaborate  and 
powerful  apparatus  will  be  hereafter  required,  when  the  Leggi 
become  accumulated.  The  Newton  alone  will  demand  a  great 
mechanical  power  to  move.  I  am  beginning  to  be  ashamed  of 
the  prejudices  I  had  imbibed  about  Buckingham  Place.  All  prej- 
udices are  hateful,  and  people  ought  to  live  in  every  spot  they 
do  not  like,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  their  opinions  are  well 
or  ill-founded.  There  are  many  charms  about  this  place,  the 
enjoyment  of  which  I  never  contemplated.  While  I  am  now 
writing,  in  addition  to  the  enjoyment  of  my  tea  and  rolls,  a  sort 
of  troubadour  is  warbling  beneath  my  window,  together  with  the 
partner  of  his  bosom  and  a  little  natural  production  between  both, 
equally  regardless  of  fame  and  weather,  and  seemingly  smitten 
only  by  the  love  of  halfpence  —  the  pleasure  of  getting  which  in 
this  neighbourhood  must,  I  suppose,  like  that  of  angling,  be 
greatly  increased  by  the  rarity  of  the  bite.  Those  things  about 
us  here,  that  to  the  common  view  appear  disagreeable,  tend  to 
increase  our  happiness.  The  repose  and  quiet  of  our  evening 
talk  or  studies  is  rendered  still  more  so  by  its  contrast  with  a 
matrimonial  squabble  in  the  street,  or  the  undisguised  acknowl- 
edgment of  pain  in  the  vociferations  of  a  whipped  urchin  up  the 
Court.  We  are  also  much  more  pastoral  here  than  you  would 
imagine. 

We  have  a  share  in  a  cow,  which  makes  its  appearance  twice  a 


1821.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


239 


day  in  a  blue  and  white  cream-jug.  We  eat  our  own  dinners  ! 
and  generally  have  enough.  Yesterday,  to  be  sure,  we  came  a 
little  short,  in  consequence  of  Leslie  (who  acts  as  maitre  d'hotel) 
having  ordered  a  sumptuous  hash  to  be  made  from  a  cold  shoul- 
der of  lamb,  the  meat  of  which  had  been  previously  stripped 
from  it  with  surgical  dexterity  by  our  host  himself  during  the 
three  preceding  days.  There  have  been  a  great  many  disputes  in 
all  ages  about  the  real  situation  of  Paradise.  I  have  not,  to  be 
sure,  read  all  the  arguments  upon  the  subject ;  but  if  I  were  to 
go  entirely  by  my  own  judgment,  I  should  guess  it  to  be  some- 
where near  the  corner  of  Cambridge  Court,  Fitzroy  Square. 
Adieu,  and  increased  health  to  you. 

Yours,  &c,  &c,  &c, 

P.  P. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
Birmingham. 

Edgbaston,  Oct.  25,  1821. 
My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your 
letter.  I  had  intended  to  have  answered  your  preceding  one  be- 
fore ;  but  I  am  not  in  mood  or  condition  to  write,  and  had  nothing 
to  say  worth  writing.  I  am  still  in  the  hands  of  the  physician. 
I  have  taken  draughts  and  pills  enough  to  kill  a  horse,  yet  I  can- 
not determine  whether  I  am  not  rather  worse  off  than  when  I 
began. 

On  one  favourable  day  of  my  complaint  I  rode  over  to  Solihull 
in  a  gig  to  see  the  boys.  I  went  in  a  gig  with  Van  Wart  and 
our  worthy  little  friend,  George.  I  wished  you  with  us  a  dozen 
times.  You  would  have  been  delighted  with  the  school-house 
and  the  village,  and  the  beautiful  old  church,  and  the  surrounding 
landscape.  It  is  all  picture.  When  you  are  here  again  you 
must  by  all  means  visit  the  boys  at  school.  The  young  rogues 
are  as  hearty  and  happy  as  ever  schoolboys  were.  They  took  us 
about  their  walks,  and  the  scenes  of  their  enterprises  and  expe- 
ditions ;  the  neighbouring  park,  and  several  charming  fields  and 
green  lanes.  The  morning's  ramble  ended  at  the  shop  of  one  of 
the  best  old  women  in  the  world,  who  sells  cakes  and  tarts  to  all 
the  schoolboys.    Here  they  all  spoiled  their  dinners,  and  nearly 


240 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


ruined  their  papa ;  and  George,  with  a  citizen-like  munificence, 
having  eaten  till  he  was  fairly  tired,  distributed  sundry  cakes  at 
the  door  to  some  of  the  poor  children  of  the  village.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  he  has  left  a  most  excellent  name  behind  him.  The 
little  girls  talk  of  you  very  often,  and  wish  you  here.  They  al- 
ways wish  to  know  whether  you  do  not  mention  them  in  your  let- 
ters, and  beg  that  I  will  give  their  love  to  you.  I  am  babbling 
about  nothing  but  children  ;  but,  in  truth,  they  are  my  chief  com- 
pany and  amusement  at  present,  and  I  have  little  else  to  talk 
about. 

I  cannot  at  this  moment  suggest  anything  for  your  Christmas 
piece.  I  do  not  know  your  general  plan.  Is  it  to  be  a  daylight 
piece,  or  an  evening  round  a  hall  fire?  Is  there  no  news  of 
Newton  ?  If  I  had  thought  he  would  remain  so  long  at  Paris  I 
would  have  written  to  him.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  so 
snugly  fixed  with  friend  Powell  for  the  winter,  though  I  should 
have  been  much  better  pleased  to  have  heard  that  you  were 
turned  neck  and  heels  into  the  street.  Reconcile  it  to  yourself  as 
you  may,  I  shall  ever  look  upon  your  present  residence  as  a  most 
serious  detriment  to  you  ;  and  were  you  to  lose  six  or  even 
twelve  months  in  looking  for  another,  I  should  think  you  a  gainer 
upon  the  whole. 

What  prospects  are  there  of  the  plates  being  finished  for 
\  Knickerbocker  '  and  the  '  Sketch  Book '  ?  When  do  you  be- 
gin a  large  picture,  and  what  subject  do  you  attack  first?  It 
is  time  you  had  something  under  weigh.  I  must  leave  a  space  to 
reply  to  friend  Peter,  so  farewell  for  the  present. 

Yours,  ever, 

W.  L 

Edgbaston,  Nov.  2,  1821. 
Mr  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  wish  to  heaven  you  would  drop  me  a 
line  now  and  then,  and  give  me  all  the  chit-chat  you  can  to  cheer 
and  interest  me.  It  would  be  charity  just  now,  when  I  am  shut 
up  from  the  world,  and  suffering  in  health  and  spirits.  I  have 
dismal  letters  from  America.  My  sister  has  lost  two  of  her 
daughters  by  sudden  and  brief  illness ;  the  last,  her  eldest,  a  fine 
girl  of  seventeen.    These  distresses  have  affected  her  own  health. 


1821.1 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


241 


There  are  no  hopes  entertained  of  my  brother  William's  recovery. 
I  received  letters  yesterday  that  gave  these  accounts,  and  have 
quenched  every  spark  of  animation  or  cheerfulness  in  me.  I  am 
still  preyed  upon  by  this  tedious  complaint,  and  find  the  eruption 
on  my  legs  worse  than  ever,  while  the  general  tone  of  my  system 
is  relaxed  and  enervated  by  this  nursing  and  confinement.  I 
have  now  given  you  reasons  enough  why  I  cannot  write  often  to 
you ;  but  why  you  should  write  occasionally  to  me.  I  have  no 
news  to  give,  and  no  cheerful  feelings  to  write  from.  You  are  in 
London  where  everything  is  news,  and  can  tell  me  of  your  own 
occupations,  which  are'  always  interesting  to  me.  I  want  you, 
therefore,  to  give  me  a  more  gossipping  letter.  Tell  me  what 
news  there  is  of  Newton,  and  when  he  is  expected  back.  I  am 
surprised  at  his  remaining  so  long  at  Paris,  since  he  says  he  is 
tired  of  it. 

What  pictures  are  you  about  ?  What  one  do  you  intend  to 
paint  for  the  exhibition  ?  Have  you  done  anything  to  Sir  Roger  ? 
Do  you  intend  to  attack  the  Christmas  piece,  and  what  is  your 
plan  ;  is  it  to  be  a  fire-side  piece  or  not  ?  Do  you  think  of  the 
Shakespeare  subjects  ?  One  of  these  ought  to  be  your  choice  in 
preference  to  the  1  Heiress  '  for  your  next  subject.  I  do  not  think 
the  '  Heiress '  would  be  striking  enough,  at  least  it  has  never 
struck  me  as  being  calculated  to  bring  out  your  powers  in  any 
force. 

What  is  Luke  doing  ?  Has  he  any  promising  subject  in  hand  ? 
I  hope  you  and  Peter  *  are  getting  comfortably  through  the 
honeymoon,  and  find  housekeeping  pleasant.  I  only  fear  that 
your  not  being  obliged  to  go  out  for  your  dinner  will  make  you 
take  less  exercise  than  before,  and  your  health  will  suffer.  My 
own  case  is  a  proof  how  one  really  loses  by  overwriting  oneself, 
and  keeping  too  intent  upon  a  sedentary  occupation.  I  attribute 
all  my  present  indisposition,  which  is  losing  me  time,  spirits,  every- 
thing, to  two  fits  of  close  application,  and  neglect  of  all  exercise, 
while  I  was  at  Paris.  I  am  convinced  that  he  who  devotes  two 
hours  each  day  to  vigorous  exercise,  will  eventually  gain  those 
two  and  a  couple  more  into  the  bargain. 

*  Peter  Powell. 

16 


242 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


London,  Nov.  5,  1821. 
My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  was  extremely  grieved  at  hearing 
such  bad  accounts  from  you.  I  hope  I  need  not  assure  you  how 
much  I  partake  of  all  your  sorrows.  I  only  wish  it  were  possible 
by  so  doing  to  lighten  them.  I  had  hoped  by  this  time  to  have 
heard  of  your  recovery.  Are  you  sure  that  you  have  the  best 
medical  advice  ?  In  every  other  respect  you  must  be  more  com- 
fortable where  you  are  than  you  could  be  anywhere  else.  Jones 
says  there  are  excellent  physicians  at  Birmingham ;  and  Charles 
Williams  speaks  of  a  Dr.  Frere  who  is  very  eminent.  Mr.  Van 
Wart,  however,  must  be  the  best  judge.  Newton  tells  me  he  has 
written  to  you.  The  poor  fellow  has  met  with  a  severe  blow  in 
the  loss  of  his  mother,  whose  death  he  heard  of  the  night  of  his 
arrival  in  London.  I  saw  Moore  at  Newton's  ;  he  lately  passed 
through  Birmingham,  and  was  very  sorry  he  did  not  know  you 
were  there.  Moore  is  extricated  from  all  his  pecuniary  difficul- 
ties, and  has  sold  his  '  Life  of  Lord  Byron '  to  Murray  for  two 
thousand  guineas  ;  the  contract  was  signed  by  them  on  Saturday 
at  Newton's  room.  Moore  expresses  the  warmest  interest  in 
your  welfare.  Newton  has  improved  my  sketch  of  Paul  Vero- 
nese wonderfully ;  it  is  now  invaluable  to  us  as  a  study  of  col- 
ouring. 

Powell  and  I  suit  each  other  extremely  well ;  I  do  not  find 
that  I  take  less  exercise  than  I  used  to  do.  I  have  painted  two 
portraits  since  my  return,  and  have  made  a  drawing  from  the 
'  Royal  Poet '  which  I  shall  show  Murray  in  a  day  or  two.  Not- 
withstanding your  objections  to  my  '  Heiress,'  I  must  paint  it.  I 
have  not  yet  sufficiently  made  up  my  mind  about  a  large  picture, 
and  it  will  not  do  to  engage  in  one  prematurely.  Don't  dissuade 
me  from  painting  the  '  Heiress,'  for  you  will  only  damp  me  and 
prevent  my  doing  it  as  well  as  I  otherwise  should.  I  do  not  ex- 
pect to  make  a  very  important  picture  of  it,  but  it  is  a  commis- 
sion, and  will  not  take  me  very  long.*  Besides,  I  mean  to  make 
it  pay  well. 

I  went  the  other  day  with  Peter  to  see  an  exhibition  of  spar- 

*  He  did  paint  it,  but  not  till  1845,  for  E.  Bicknell,  Esq.,  in  whose  gallery, 
at  Hearne  Hill,  it  now  hangs. 


1821.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


243 


ring  at '  Fives  Court/  and  was  very  much  amused.  I  wished  for 
you,  for  who  should  I  meet  at  the  door  in  capacity  of  check-taker, 
but  our  friend  the  free-and-easy  writer  at  the  1  Gipsey  House.'  * 
He  turns  out  to  be  a  bruiser,  who  at  the  time  we  saw  him  there 
was  in  training  to  fight  a  pitched  battle  ;  so  that  it  is  lucky  for  us 
we  did  not  take  umbrage  at  his  familiarity.  He  has  fought  twice, 
and  though  beaten  both  times  is  considered  a  "  very  game  man." 
Among  the  crowd  in  the  court  were  two  heroes,  "Belasco  the 
Jew"  and  another  (whose  name  I  have  forgotten),  who  had 
fought  each  other  the  day  before  at  Moulsey.  Belasco  has  won, 
though  they  were  both  in  most  woeful  plight.  Their  heads  had 
become  too  large  for  their  hats,  which  were  balanced  on  the  top 
of  a  large  bandage  of  Belcher  handkerchief  that  obscured  an 
eye  and  cheek  of  each  of  them,  and  it  was  difficult  to  imagine 
the  invisible  half  of  their  faces  to  be  in  worse  trim  than  that 
which  was  seen,  which  shone  resplendent  with  the  high  polish 
produced  by  swelling,  exhibiting  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow. 
One  could  not  open,  nor  the  other  shut  his  mouth.  The  bruised 
carcases  of  these  "  knights  of  the  rueful  countenance  "  were  en- 
veloped in  wrap-rascals,  in  which  they  moved  about  stiffly,  and 
occasionally  sat  down  with  all  the  cautiousness  of  men  in  whom 
the  sense  of  touch  was  delicately  alive.  Belasco's  friends  were 
gathered  round  him,  making  up  a  match  for  him  to  fight  somebody 
else  as  soon  as  he  was  well ;  and  the  admirers  of  the  other  were 
comforting  him  by  showing  him  where  he  had  made  the  grand 
mistake,  and  how  he  might  have  gained  the  battle  on  the  pre- 
ceding day. 

Luke  is  very  well,  he  will  write  to  you  soon  and  speak  for 
himself.  He  intends  painting  a  large  view  of  Greenwich  Hos- 
pital, Park,  &c.  from  the  hill,  where  you  may  recollect  his  rolling 
his  purse  overboard  one  fine  summer  day.  The  "  Childe  "  has 
begun  a  portrait  of  Moore,  which  will  be  very  like.  Murray  in- 
tends having  his  picture  of  you  engraved. 

Give  my  love  to  the  "  wee  things  "  at  Edgbaston,  and  let  me 
know  from  time  to  time  how  the  Citizen  does,  and  what  progress 
the  little  ladies  are  making  in  the  fine  arts,  and  whether  Washing- 
ton still  regards  your  flute  with  that  look  of  unutterable  veneration 
*  Referring  to  some  of  their  suburban  fair  experiences. 


244 


EXTKACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


with  which  he  used  to  turn  up  his  eyes  to  it,  whether  in  your 
hands  or  quietly  reposing  on  the  top  of  the  bookcase.  Write  us 
a  bulletin  every  day  or  two  of  the  state  of  your  health.  A  single 
line  will  do,  but  as  much  more  as  you  please. 

Yours  ever, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
Birmingham 


FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Edgbaston,  Nov.  8,  1821. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  soul  on 
your  admission  to  the  Royal  Academy,  of  which  friend  Luke  has 
just  given  me  the  tidings.  It  is  no  more  than  what  you  have  long 
deserved,  but  it  is  not  always  that  a  man  gets  what  he  deserves. 
I  did  not  mean  to  undervalue  your  study  of  the  '  Heiress,'  only 
in  comparison  with  the  other  subjects  you  had  in  contemplation. 
The  others  are  uncommonly  rich  and  striking,  and  fittest  to  draw 
out  your  peculiar  powers  in  delineating  character,  costume,  &c, 
&c.  I  have  no  doubt  but  you  will  make  a  very  excellent  thing 
of  the  i  Heiress,'  and  the  landscape  that  you  sketched  at  Haddon 
Hall  will  enrich  it,  and  give  it  architectural  interest,  and  pic- 
turesque associations. 

By-the-by,  whenever  you  want  to  gather  a  little  information 
about  Haddon  Hall,  you  will  find  a  description  of  it  with  a  plate 
or  two  in  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Archaeologia.  You  will  find 
that  work  a  mine  of  antiquarian  knowledge,  and  curious  facts  as 
to  customs,  architecture,  dress,  &c.  It  is  in  many  quarto  volumes 
by  the  Antiquarian  Society.  In  the  ninth  and  tenth  volumes  of 
the  '  Censura  Literaria '  are  elaborate  disquisitions  on  hawking 
and  hunting  by  Hazlewood. 

Your  letter  of  the  5th  was  most  acceptable  and  gratifying,  and 
I  thank  you  for  a  vast  deal  of  amusement  afforded  me  by  the 
description  of  the  '  Milling  School.'  I  think  Willis  has  pitched 
upon  a  famous  good  thing  in  his  contemplated  picture ;  depend 
upon  it  he  will  gain  himself  both  honour  and  profit  by  it.    If  he 


1821.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


245 


succeeds,  as  I  am  convinced  he  will,  I  would  advise  him  to  make 
a  companion  to  it  in  a  view  of  Paris  from  one  of  the  neighbour- 
ing hills. 

As  to  my  medical  advices,  I  have  had  the  advice  of  one  of'  the 
best  surgeons  here,  a  skilful  man  ;  I  fear  however,  I  shall  be  a 
long  time  getting  rid  of  this  complaint.  The  Citizen  *  has  been 
unwell  from  a  cold,  but  is  getting  better.  He  has  lately  become 
something  of  a  theologian,  and  has  taken  a  great  notion  to  talk 
about  the  Deity,  and  asks  many  very  odd  questions.  I  heard 
him  instructing  his  little  sisters  the  other  day  on  the  subject,  and 
assuring  them,  among  other  things, ' "  that  nothing  could  hurt 
God,"  "  a  horse  could  not  bite  him."  He  tells  me  long  stories 
every  evening  as  we  lie  on  the  sofa  together.  They  however  all 
turn  upon  the  same  things  —  the  adventures  of  two  little  girls, 
who  walk  in  a  wood  where  they  are  chased  by  a  "  savage  cart 
horse  "  until  they  run  into  a  gentleman's  house,  where  they  have 
a  fine  supper,  and  in  setting  out  the  supper-table  the  Citizen  gen- 
erally exhausts  his  fancy  and  the  residue  of  his  short  evening. 
All  the  children  talk  about  you  continually,  and  Marianne  begs 
her  mamma,  when  she  writes  to  you,  to  tell  you  that  if  you  don't 
come  to  Birmingham,  she  will  come  after  you  to  London. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  Leslie. 

Yours  ever, 

W.  I. 

London,  Dec.  5,  1821. 
My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  should  have  written  to  you  before, 
but  we  have  been  every  day  expecting  to  see  you  for  some  time 
past.  I  am  afraid  Newton's  bed-room  would  be  too  small  for  you 
to  sit  in,  and  in  his  sitting-room  you  would  be  constantly  exposed 
to  interruptions  from  his  visitors.  I  will  look  about  to-morrow  to 
see  if  I  can  find  anything  that  I  think  will  suit  you,  and  write  you 
a  description  of  what  I  see  and  the  terms,  without  entering  into 
any  engagement.  I  hope  you  will  make  up  your  mind  to  come 
to  London  before  the  weather  gets  too  cold.  I  am  afraid  from  the 
continuance  of  your  complaint  you  have  not  good  medical  advice ; 
here  you  may  have  the  best.  I  think  if  we  had  you  among  us 
*  One  of  his  little  nephews  so  nicknamed. 


246 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1821. 


here  we  could  cheer  you  up  a  little,  and  the  change  of  scene  would 
help  to  lighten  in  some  degree  the  heavy  affliction  you  have  suf- 
fered. 

I  cannot  give  a  very  good  account  of  myself  since  I  last  wrote, 
for  I  have  not  yet  begun  my  picture.  I  found  the  truth  of  your  re- 
mark, that  success  may  sometimes  check  a  man's  exertions  as  well 
as  disappointment.  My  election  threw  me  out  a  little.  In  the  first 
place  I  had  forty  visits  to  pay  to  the  Academicians ;  in  the  next  I 
had  to  attend  a  council  and  hear  a  speech  from  Sir  Thomas,  and 
receive  my  diploma,  and  after  that  to  make  my  appearance  among 
the  members  at  the  lectures.  I  have  now  got  through  these  cere- 
monies, and  am  getting  to  work  again.  I  find  this  event  has  given 
me  a  fresh  stock  of  spirits,  and  I  even  think  of  health. 

Since  writing  the  above  it  has  occurred  to  us,  that  if  no  other 
suitable  lodgings  are  to  be  had,  we  can  make  you  comfortable  (for 
a  short  time  at  least)  here.  Don't  start  —  it  is  even  so.  Powell's 
sitting-room  can  be  made  as  warm  as  you  please,  and  you  have  no 
idea  of  the  improvement  in  its  appearance  since  the  introduction 
of  window  curtains,  &c.  My  advice  is,  therefore,  that  you  set  off, 
the  first  fine  day,  for  London,  without  taking  a  thought  of  what  is 
to  become  of  you  here  —  and  I  am  very  much  mistaken  if  we 
can't  among  us  make  you  comfortable ;  at  least  till  we  can  find 
you  suitable  apartments  to  write  in. 

Yours  ever. 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

Edgbaston,  Dec.  8th,  1821. 
My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  feel  most  sensibly  the  kindness  of 
your  letter,  which,  however,  is  just  like  yourself  —  full  of  good- 
ness. 

I  should  feel  tempted  to  come  to  London  at  once,  and  to  try 
how  I  could  make  out  at  Newton's  quarters,  which,  upon  the 
whole,  I  think  would  best  suit  me  ;  but  at  present  it  is  out  of  my 
power. 

Everything  is  done  here  to  make  me  comfortable;  my  good 
sister  almost  makes  a  child  of  me. 

I  hope  to  hear  of  your  getting  under  weigh  with  another  paint- 
ing soon ;  and  trust  that  the  good  spirits  and  good  health  you 


1822.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


247 


have  picked  up  will  enable  you  to  dispatch  the  thing  with  spirit 
and  expedition. 

You  do  not  say  how  the  engravings  are  going  on  for  the  new 
editions  of  my  works,  nor  whether  you  have  shown  Murray  your 
last  sketch. 

Give  my  hearty  thanks  to  our  worthy  friend  Powell  for  the 
kind  offer  of  his  room.  I  long  to  be  among  you  all  once  more.  I 
think  a  few  tea  drinkings  with  the  old  set  would  be  of  great  ser- 
vice to  me.  But  the  physicians  have  got  hold  of  me,  and  I  am 
no  longer  my  own  man.  I  have  kept  clear  of  them  all  my  life 
till  now ;  and  now  they  have  got  me  in  their  clutches.  I  fear 
they  will  make  '  worms'  meat '  of  me  before  they  let  me  go  again. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy. 

P.  S.  —  Let  me  hear  from  you  now  and  then,  for  your  letters 
are  better  than  medicine  to  me.  How  does  Newton  come  on  ?  I 
suppose  he  has  nearly  finished  his  '  Lovers'  Quarrels, '  and  is 
ready  for  something  else.  He  must  have  his  mind  in  good  tune 
for  composition  after  his  visit  to  Paris.  I  will  write  to  him  when 
next  I  write.  I  feel  very  deeply  his  kindness  with  respect  to  his 
rooms.  Indeed,  I  feel  towards  you  all  more  than  it  is  necessary 
•  to  express.  You  are  often  the  theme  of  conversation  with  them 
and  the  children,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  a  visit  from  you  at 
any  time  would  be  quite  a  jubilee  in  the  household. " 

1822. 

Exhibited  Picture  of  the  Year. 

The  Rivals.*    (Painted  for  Sir  Matthew  White  Ridley.    Engraved  by  Fin- 
den,  and  lithographed  by  R.  T.  Lane,  A.R.A.) 

During  the  year,  Irving  was  once  more  on  the  continent  in 
quest  of  health.  He  travelled  through  Germany  in  the  course 
of  the  summer,  and  writes  to  Leslie  in  December  from  Dresden. 

*  This  picture  was  Exhibited  at  Manchester  in  1857,  by  its  then  possessor, 
E.  Rodgett,  Esq.  There  is  a  small  repetition  of  it,  with  some  variations,  in 
the  possession  of  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq.,  of  Handsworth,  near  Birmingham. 


248 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1822. 


FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Dresden,  Dec.  2nd,  1822. 
My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  wrote  to  Newton  from  Munich,  and 
had  hoped  before  this  to  have  had  a  reply ;  but  have  been  dis- 
appointed. I  am  very  anxious  to  hear  from  you  all,  and  to  know 
what  you  are  still  doing.  For  my  part,  my  whole  summer  has 
been  devoted  to  travelling,  gazing  about,  and  endeavouring  to  ac- 
quire a  good  state  of  health,  in  which  latter  I  am  happy  to  say  I 
have  in  a  great  measure  succeeded.  By  dint  of  bathing,  and  a 
little  attention  to  diet,  I  have  conquered  the  malady  that  so  ldng 
rendered  me  almost  a  cripple ;  and  the  exercise,  change  of  air, 
and  refreshment  of  spirits  incident  to  travelling,  have  operated 
most  favourably  on  my  general  health.  Since  I  wrote  to  New- 
ton, I  have  been  among  the  Salzbourg  Mountains :  then  by  the 
way  of  Linz  to  Vienna,  where  I  remained  nearly  a  month  ;  then 
through  part  of  Moravia  and  Bohemia,  stopping  a  few  days  at 
the  fine  old  city  of  Prague,  to  this  place,  where  I  mean  to  winter. 
How  I  should  have  liked  to  have  you  as  a  travelling  companion 
throughout  my  summer's  tour.  You  would  have  found  continual 
exercise  for  the  pencil,  and  objects  of  gratification  and  improve- 
ment in  the  noble  galleries  that  abound  in  the  principal  German 
cities.  I  shall  now  take  a  master  and  go  to  work  to  study  Ger- 
man. If  I  can  get  my  pen  to  work,  so  much  the  better ;  but  it 
has  been  so  long  idle  that  I  fear  it  will  take  some  time  to  get  it 
in  a  working  mood.  I  hope  you  have  made  some  more  designs 
for  my  works,  and  that  the  engravings  are  finished  of  those  that 
were  in  hand.  Take  care  to  get  for  me  Allston's  design  for  the 
'  Judgment  of  Wouter  Van  Twiller  ; '  and  endeavour,  if  possible, 
to  get  all  the  originals  into  your  hands.  How  do  you  come  on  in 
housekeeping  ?  Have  you  got  to  new  and  comfortable  quarters  ? 
How  often  have  I  thought  of  you  in  exploring  some  of  these  old 
German  towns,  where  you  might  have  a  wing  of  a  deserted 
palace  almost  for  nothing.  Such  glorious  painting  rooms,  that 
might  be  blocked  up  or  pulled  to  pieces  at  your  humour  !  The 
living  in  fact  is  wonderfully  cheap  in  many  of  the  finest  cities  of 
Germany.    In  Dresden,  for  example,  I  have  a  very  neat,  com- 


1822.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


249 


fortable,  and  prettily  furnished  apartment  on  the  first  floor  of  an 
hotel ;  it  consists  of  a  cabinet,  with  a  bed  in  it,  and  a  cheerful 
sitting  room  that  looks  on  the  finest  square.  I  am  offered  this 
apartment  for  the  winter  at  the  rate  of  thirty-six  shillings  a 
month.  Would  to  heaven  I  could  get  such  quarters  in  London 
for  anything  like  the  money.  I  shall  probably  remain  here  un- 
til the  spring  opens,  as  this  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  winter  resi- 
dences, and  peculiarly  favourable  for  the  study  of  the  German 
language,  which  is  here  spoken  in  its  purity.  Which  way  I  shall 
direct  my  wanderings  when  I  leave  this  I  cannot  say ;  I  find  it  is 
useless  to  project  plans  of  tours,  as  I  seldom  follow  them,  but  am 
apt  to  be  driven  completely  out  of  my  course  by  whim  or  circum- 
stance. Do  write  to  me,  and  direct  your  letters,  "  Poste  restante, 
Dresden."  Let  me  hear  all  the  news  you  can  collect  of  our  ac- 
quaintances, and  tell  me  what  you  are  all  doing.  Have  the  Boll- 
mans  left  Paris  and  returned  to  America  ?  How  goes  on  Luke's 
picture  of  Greenwich  ?  I  presume  it  is  nearly  finished.  What 
subjects  have  you  on  hand,  or  what  on  view,  &c,  &c.  ?  I  sent 
you  word  in  my  letter  to  Newton  that  I  wished  you,  when  the 
plates  illustrating  my  works  were  published,  to  get  some  sets 
from  Murray  for  me,  and  send  them  to  Mr  Van  Wart,  to  be  for- 
warded to  my  brother  in  America  —  one  set  to  be  given  to  Mr. 
Brevoort  of  New  York.  I  find  by  a  letter  from  my  brother, 
that  he  met  with  that  worthy  personage,  Mr.  Peter  Powell,  at 
Rouen,  and  that  they  had  a  world  of  pleasant  conversation 
together. 

Farewell,  my  dear  boy. 

Give  my  hearty  rememberance  to  the  "  Childe,"  Father  Luke, 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  fraternity  ;  not  forgetting  my  excellent  and 
worthy  friend  Peter  Powell.  Yours  ever,         W.  I. 

I  am  unable  to  give  any  precise  particulars  as  to  Leslie's  work 
this  year,  having  no  letters  of  the  year  to  his  sisters.  But  he 
was  certainly  engaged  on  a  picture  from  '  Winter's  Tale,'  I  pre- 
sume the  '  Autolycus,'  afterwards  painted  for  Mr.  Sheepshanks, 
and  now  in  the  National  Gallery  at  South  Kensington  ;  and  he 
may  have  already  commenced  his  studies  for  his  exquisite  picture 
of  i  Sancho  in  the  Apartment  of  the  Duchess,'  now  at  Petworth. 


250 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1823. 


1823. 

Leslie's  name  does  not  appear  in  the  Academy  catalogue  for 
this  year.  He  was  at  work  on  his  picture  of  '  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley  and  the  Gipsies/  but  was  unable  to  finish  it  to  his  mind. 

Irving,  still  at  Dresden,  writes  to  him. 

{March  15th,  1853.) 

I  have  just  been  seized  with  a  fit  of  letter  writing,  after  hav- 
ing nearly  forgotten  how  to  use  my  pen,  so  I  take  the  earliest 
stage  of  the  complaint  to  scribble  to  you.  I  ha*d  hoped  to  receive 
a  gratuitous  letter  from  you  before  this,  but  you  are  one  of  those 
close  codgers  who  never  pay  more  than  the  law  compels  them.  I 
am  extremely  sorry  to  hear  from  NeAvton  that  he  has  been  so  ill, 
—  though  I  am  by  no  means  surprised  at  it,  as  he  played  all 
kinds  of  vagaries  with  a  constitution  naturally  delicate.  I  trust 
this  fit  of  illness  will  teach  him  the  necessity  of  daily  and  regular 
attention  to  exercise  and  diet ;  which  all  the  advice  in  the  world 
will  not  beat  into  a  young  man's  head. 

There  is  more  time  lost  by  these  daily  attempts  to  gain  time 
than  by  anything  else ;  and  he  who  will  endeavour  to  cheat  his 
health  out  of  an  hour  or  two  a  day  in  extra  fasting,  or  extra  ap- 
plication, will  in  the  end  have  to  pay  days  and  weeks  for  those 
hours. 

How  often  I  have  wished  for  you  and  Newton  during  the  last 
eight  or  nine  months,  in  the  course  of  which  I  have  been  con- 
tinually mingling  in  scenes  full  of  character  and  picture. 

The  place  where  I  am  now  passing  my  time  is  a  complete 
study.  The  court  of  this  little  kingdom  of  Saxony  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  ceremonious  and  old-fashioned  in  Europe,  and  one  finds 
here  customs  and  observances  in  full  vigour  that  have  long  since 
faded  away  in  other  courts. 

The  king  is  a  capital  character  himself — a  complete  old 
gentleman  of  the  ancient  school,  and  very  tenacious  in  keeping  up 
the  old  style.  He  has  treated  me  with  the  most  marked  kindness, 
and  every  member  of  the  royal  family  has  shewn  me  great 


1823.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


251 


civility.  What  would  greatly  delight  you,  is  the  royal  hunting 
establishment,  which  the  king  maintains  at  a  vast  expense,  being 
his  hobby.  He  has  vast  forests  stocked  with  game,  and  a  com- 
plete forest  police,  forest  masters,  chasseurs,  piqueurs,  jagers,  &c, 
&c.,*  several  hunting  lodges  —  packs  of  hounds  —  horses,  &c, 
&c.  The  charm  of  the  thing  is,  that  all  this  is  kept  up  in  the  old 
style  —  and  to  go  out  hunting  with  him,  you  might  fancy  yourself 
in  one  of  those  scenes  of  old  times  which  we  read  of  in  poetry 
and  romance.  I  have  followed  him  thrice  to  the  boar  hunt.  The 
last  we  had  extremely  good  sport.  The  boar  gave  us  a  chase  of 
upwards  of  two  hours,  and  was  not  overpowered  until  it  had 
killed  one  clog,  and  desperately  wounded  several  others.  It  was 
a  very  cold  winter  day,  with  much  snow  on  the  ground  —  but  as 
the  hunting  was  in  a  thick  pine  forest,  and  the  day  was  sunny,  we 
did  not  feel  the  cold.  The  king  and  all  his  hunting  retinue  were 
clad  in  an  old-fashioned  hunting  uniform  of  green,  with  green 
caps.  The  sight  of  the  old  monarch  and  Ins  retinue  galloping 
through  the  alleys  of  the  forest  —  the  jagers  dashing  singly  about 
in  all  directions,  cheering  the  hounds  —  the  shouts  —  the  blast  of 
horns  —  the  cry  of  hounds  ringing  through  the  forest,  altogether 
made  one  of  the  most  animating  scenes  I  ever  beheld. 

I  have  become  very  intimate  with  one  of  the  king's  forest 
masters,  who  lives  in  a  picturesque  old  hunting  lodge  with  towers, 
formerly  a  convent,  and  who  has  undertaken  to  shew  me  all  the 
economy  of  the  hunting  establishment.  What  glorious  group- 
ings, and  what  admirable  studies  for  figures  and  faces  I  have  seen 
among  these  hunters. 

By  this  time  your  painting  of  '  Autolycus  '  must  be  nearly 
finished.  I  long  to  have  a  description  of  it  from  Newton.  Do 
tell  me  something  about  it  yourself.  Have  you  thought  of  a  sub- 
ject for  your  next  ?  and  have  you  entirely  abandoned  the  scene 
of  Shakespeare  being  brought  up  for  deer-stealing  ?  I  think  it 
would  be  a  subject  that  you  would  treat  with  peculiar  felicity, 
and  you  could  not  have  one  of  a  more  general  nature,  since 
Shakespeare  and  his  scanty  biography  are  known  in  all  parts  of 
the  world.  Upon  my  soul,  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  I  am 
convinced  it  is  a  subject  that  you  might  make  a  masterpiece  of ;  it 
is  one  you  should  paint  at  least  as  large  as  your '  May  Day,'  and 


252 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1824. 


introduce  a  great  number  of  figures.  Do  think  of  it.  You. 
might  make  a  great  impression  by  such  a  picture. 

I  have  done  nothing  with  my  pen  since  I  left  you,  absolutely 
nothing!  I  have  been  gazing  about,  rather  idly,  perhaps,  but 
yet  among  fine  scenes  of  striking  character,  and  I  can  only  hope 
that  some  of  them  may  stick  to  my  mind,  and  furnish  me  with 
materials  in  some  future  fit  of  scribbling. 

I  have  been  fighting  my  way  into  the  German  language,  and 
am  regaining  my  Italian,  and  for  want  of  more  profitable  employ- 
ment, have  turned  play-actor. 

We  have  been  getting  up  private  theatricals  here  at  the  house 
of  an  English  lady.  I  have  already  enacted  Sir  Charles  Rackett 
in  '  Three  Weeks  after  Marriage,'  with  great  applause,  and  am 
on  the  point  of  playing  Don  Felix  in  £  The  Wonder.'  I  had  no 
idea  of  this  fund  of  dramatic  talent  lurking  within  me  ;  and  I  now 
console  myself  that  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  I  can  turn 
stroller,  and  pick  up  a  decent  maintenance  among  the  barns  in 
England.    I  verily  believe  nature  intended  me  to  be  a  vagabond. 

P.  S.  —  I  hope  you  intend  to  make  some  designs  for  Brace- 
bridge  Hall.  I  would  rather  have  the  work  illustrated  by  you 
than  by  any  one  else." 

1824. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(Exhibited).  Sancho  Panza*  in  the  Apartment  op  the  Duchess.— 
"  First  and  foremost  I  must  tell  }>x>u.  I  look  on  my  master,  Don  Quixote, 
to  be  no  better  than  a  downright  madman,  though  sometimes  he  will  stum- 
ble upon  a  parcel  of  sayings  so  quaint  and  so  tightly  put  together,  that  the 
devil  himself  could  not  mend  them;  but  in  the  main,  I  cannot  beat  it  out 
of  my  noddle,  but  that  he  is  as  mad  as  a  March  hare.  Now,  because  I  am 
pretty  confident  of  knowing  his  blind  side,  whatever  crotchets  come  into 
my  crown,  though  without  either  head  or  tail,  yet  can  I  make  them  pass 
on  him  for  Gospel.  Such  was  the  answer  to  his  letter  and  another  sham 
that  I  put  upon  him  the  other  day,  and  is  not  in  print  yet,  touching  my 
Lady  Dulcinea's  enchantment;  for  you  must  know,  between  you  and  I, she 
is  no  more  enchanted  than  the  man  in  the  moon."  — Don  Quixote,'  Vol.  3, 
Chap.  33.  (R.  A.  Catalogue,  1824.) 
Painted  for  the  Earl  of  Egremont,  repeated  for  Mr.  Vernon,  and  now  in 

*  See  Introduction. 


1824.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


253 


the  National  Collection,  South  Kensington.  Repeated  a  second  time  for 
Mr.  Rogers.  A  third  repetition  was  painted  for  one  of  the  painter's  sisters, 
in  America,  and  is  now  in  this  country,  in  the  possession  of  John  Farn- 
worth,  Esq. 

(Not  exhibited.)  Portrait  of  Lady  Harriet  Gurney.  — Portrait  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott  (for  Mr.  Ticknor,  of  Boston).  Repeated. 


This  year  was  memorable  to  Leslie  for  many  reasons.  It  in- 
cluded the  death  of  a  mother  to  whom  he  was  deeply  attached ; 
his  visit  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  at  Abbotsford  ;  and  the  painting  of 
his  '  Sancho,'  for  Lord  Egremont.  I  need  add  nothing  to  the 
tribute  which  Leslie  has  paid  in  his  Autobiography  to  Lord  Egre- 
mont's  munificence,  his  kindness  of  heart  to  all  about  him,  and 
his  little  less  than  paternal  kindness  to  Leslie  himself,  extended 
after  his  marriage  to  his  wife  and  children.  The  patronage  of 
Lord  Egremont  drew  after  it  that  of  others  of  his  order,  and  to  it 
Leslie  always  attributed  much  of  his  after  success.  The  best 
description  I  know  of  Lord  Egremont  and  Petworth  in  his  time, 
is  Haydon's.  I  quote  it  here,  as  his  emphatic  style  of  describing 
the  place  and  the  owner,  and  his  characteristic  letter  of  acknowl- 
edgment, are  worth  contrasting  with  Leslie's  way  of  treating  the 
subject,  though  both  descriptions  result  in  giving  one  the  same 
impression  of  Lord  Egremont's  singular  geniality  and  goodness 
of  heart. 

"November  13th.  —  Set  off  for  Petworth,  where  I  arrived  at 
half-past  three.  Lord  Egremont's  reception  was  frank  and  noble. 
The  party  was  quite  a  family  one.  All  was  frank  good-humour 
and  benevolence.  Lord  Egremont  presided  and  helped,  laughed 
and  joked,  and  let  others  do  the  same." 

"November  16th.  —  Sketched  and  studied  all  day.  I  dine  with 
the  finest  Vandyke  in  the  world  —  the  Lady  Ann  Carr,  Countess 
of  Bedford.  It  is  beyond  everything.  —  I  really  never  saw  such 
a  character  as  Lord  Egremont.  '  Live  and  let  live '  seems  to  be 
his  motto.  He  has  placed  me  in  one  of  the  most  magnificent  bed- 
rooms I  ever  saw.  It  speaks  more  for  what  he  thinks  of  my 
talents  than  anything  that  ever  happened  to  me.  On  the  left  of 
the  bed  hangs  a  portrait  of  William,  Lord  Marquis  of  Hertford, 


254 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1S24. 


elected  Knight  of  the  Garter  1649,  and  by  act  of  parliament 
restored  Duke  of  Somerset  1660.  Over  the  chimney  is  a  noble- 
man kneeling.  A  lady  of  high  rank  to  the  right.  Opposite, 
Queen  Mary.  Over  the  door,  a  head.  On  the  right  of  the 
cabinet,  Sir  Somebody.  And  over  the  entrance  door,  another 
head.  The  bed-curtains  are  different-coloured  velvets,  let  in  on 
white  satin.  The  walls,  sofas,  easy  chairs,  carpets,  green  damask, 
and  a  beautiful  view  of  the  park  out  of  the  high  windows. 

"There  is  something  peculiarly  interesting  in  the  inhabiting 
these  apartments,  sacred  to  antiquity,  which  have  contained  a 
long  list  of  deceased  and  illustrious  ancestors.  As  I  lay  in  my 
magnificent  bed,  and  saw  the  old  portraits  trembling  in  a  sort  of 
twilight,  I  almost  fancied  I  heard  them  breathe,  and  almost  ex- 
pected they  would  move  out  and  shake  my  curtains.  What  a 
destiny  is  mine  !  One  year  in  the  Bench,  the  companion  of 
gamblers  and  scoundrels,  —  sleeping  in  wretchedness  and  dirt 
on  a  flock  bed,  low  and  filthy,  with  black  worms  crawling  over 
my  hands,  —  another,  reposing  in  down  and  velvet,  in  a  splendid 
apartment,  in  a  splendid  house,  the  guest  of  rank,  and  fashion, 
and  beauty  !  As  I  laid  my  head  on  my  down  pillow  the  first 
night,  I  was  deeply  affected,  and  could  hardly  sleep.  God  in 
heaven  grant  my  future  may  now  be  steady.  At  any  rate  a 
nobleman  has  taken  me  by  the  hand,  whose  friendship  generally 
increases  in  proportion  to  the  necessity  of  its  continuance.  Such 
is  Lord  Egremont.  Literally  like  the  sun.  The  very  flies  at 
Petworth  seem  to  know  there  is  room  for  their  existence  ;•  that 
the  windows  are  theirs.  Dogs,  horses,  cows,  deer,  and  pigs,  peas- 
antry and  servants,  guests  and  family,  children  and  parents,  all 
share  alike  his  bounty,  and  opulence,  and  luxuries.  At  breakfast, 
after  the  guests  have  all  breakfasted,  in  walks  Lord  Egremont ; 
first  comes  a  grandchild,  whom  he  sends  away  happy.  Outside 
the  window  moan  a  dozen  black  Spaniels,  who  are  let  in,  and  to 
them  he  distributes  cakes  and  comfits,  giving  all  equal  shares. 
After  chatting  with  one  guest,  and  proposing  some  scheme  of 
pleasure  to  others,  his  leathern  gaiters  are  buttoned  on,  and  away 
he  walks,  leaving  everybody  to  take  care  of  themselves,  with  all 
that  opulence  and  generosity  can  place  at  their  disposal  entirely 
within  reach.    At  dinner  he  meets  everybody,  and  then  are  re- 


1824.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


255 


counted  the  feats  of  the  day.  All  principal  dishes  he  helps,  never 
minding  the  trouble  of  carving ;  he  eats  heartily  and  helps  liber- 
ally. There  is  plenty,  but  not  absurd  profusion  ;  good  wines,  but 
not  extravagant  waste.  Everything  solid,  liberal,  rich,  and  Eng- 
lish. At  seventy-four  he  still  shoots  daily,  comes  home  wet 
through,  and  is  as  active  and  looks  as  well  as  many  men  of 
fifty. 

"  The  meanest  insect  at  Petworth  feels  a  ray  of  his  Lordship's 
fire  in  the  justice  of  its  distribution. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  character,  or  such  a  man,  nor  were  there 
ever  many. 

"  Before  leaving  that  princely  seat  of  magnificent  hospitality,  I 
wrote,  when  I  retired  to  my  bed-room  last  night,  the  following 
letter  :  — 

"My  Lord, 

"  I  cannot  leave  Petworth  without  intruding  my  gratitude  for 
the  princely  manner  in  which  I  have  been  treated  during  my 
stay,  and  in  earnestly  hoping  your  Lordship  may  live  long,  I  only 
add  my  voice  to  the  voices  of  thousands,  who  never  utter  your 
Lordship's  name  without  a  blessing. 

"  I  am,  my  Lord, 
"  Your  Lordship's  humble  and  grateful  servant, 

"  B.  R.  Haydon." 

Leslie  started  for  Abbotsford  in  August,  and  met  Newton  in 
Edinburgh.  The  incidents  of  the  journey  are  fully  described  in 
letters  to  his  sister,  but  Leslie  has  already  drawn  so  freely  on  these 
in  his  Autobiography,  that  I  refrain  from  inserting  them  here. 
Leslie  was  at  this  time  an  accepted  suitor,  and  from  one  of  his 
letters  to  Miss  Harriet  Stone,  soon  to  be  Mrs.  Leslie,  I  extract 
the  following :  — 

"  Abbotsford,  Sept.  12th,  1824. 

"  I  have  certainly  enjoyed  myself  much  more  than  I  expected. 
Such  delightful  weather  as  we  have  had  ever  since  I  have  been 
in  Scotland,  could  not  have  been  anticipated.    Still  I  am  very 


256 


EXTRACTS  FEOM 


[1824. 


anxious  to  get  back  to  London,  and  shall  leave  Scotland  the 
moment  my  engagements  permit  me. 

*****  **** 
"  In  my  last  letter,  I  gave  you  some  account  of  this  house  and 
its  inmates,  but  said  nothing  about  its  situation.  It  stands  close  to 
the  Tweed  (of  which  I  have  a  very  pretty  view  from  the  window 
of  the  bed-room  from  which  I  am  now  writing)  on  the  side  of  a 
hill,  and  in  the  midst  of  hills,  the  highest  of  which  are  the  Eildon, 
alluded  to  in  the  '  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,'  and  the  Cowden- 
knows,  which  gives  the  name  to  an  old  song.  Melrose  Abbey,  a 
most  beautiful  ruin,  is  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  Eildon  hills, 
about  three  miles  from  here,  and  not  far  off  is  a  most  romantic 
glen,  celebrated  by  one  of  the  oldest  Scottish  poets,  Thomas  the 
Rhymer,  and  where  he  met  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies.  There 
is  a  mossy  seat  near  a  waterfall  at  the  top  of  this  glen,  which 
is  a  favourite  haunt  of  the  '  Great  Unknown,'  and  which 
he  wished  me  to  introduce  into  the  picture  I  am  painting ;  but 
it  is  far  too  good  for  a  background.  Near  this  glen  is  a  very 
pretty  little  mountain  lake,  on  which  Sir  Walter  maintains  two 
swans,  and  tells  a  story  of  a  water  bull  that  inhabits  it ;  indeed  he 
has  anecdotes  to  relate  of  every  little  spot  around  him.  What 
the  hills  most  want  here  are  trees,  a  deficiency  Sir  W.  is  doing 
all  in  his  power  to  supply,  by  planting  all  the  ground  that  belongs 
to  himself  full  of  them.  A  few  years  will  double  the  beauty  of 
the  scenery  here.  The  Tweed,  though  not  a  wide  or  deep  stream, 
is  very  ornamental,  and  makes  some  beautiful  turns  among  the 
hills,  and  the  pebbly  bed  over  which  it  flows  gives  it  a  fine  voice. 
Some  poet  calls  it  '  Well  sung  Tweed,  baronial  stream  ; '  and  I 
suppose  there  is  no  river  in  Great  Britain,  the  name  of  which 
more  frequently  occurs  in  poetry,  or  is  more  connected  with  great 
historical  events.  Mr.  Lockhart,  who  is  married  to  Sir  Walter's 
eldest  daughter,  lives  in  a  very  pretty  cottage  near  Melrose  Ab- 
bey. I  dined  with  him "  yesterday.  Newton  is  staying  there, 
and  the  two  Miss  Clephanes  (Lady  Comp ton's  sisters),  who  gave 
us  some  very  delightful  music  in  the  evening.  Mrs.  Lockhart, 
who  has  more  of  her  father  in  her  than  any  of  Sir  W.'s  other 
children,  sings  Scottish  songs  very  beautifully.  Now  that  I  am 
on  the  subject  of  songs,  I  must  give  you  the  fragments  of  a 


1824.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


257 


Gloucestershire  ditty  Sir  Walter  repeated  the  other  day.  I  think 
you  will  agree  with  me  in  regretting  there  is  not  more  of  it.  The 
four  first  lines  are  particularly  interesting,  — 

The  stones,  the  stones,  the  stones,  the  stones, 

The  stones,  the  stones,  the  stones,  the  stones, 

The  stones,  the  stones,  the  stones,  the  stones, 

The  stones  what  built  Jack  Ridley's  oven, 

They  all  was  fought  (fetch'd)  from  Barclay  quar'  (quarry).  * 

"  I  must  not  omit  to  describe  the  dogs,  who  are  very  important 
members  of  the  family.  Sir  Walter  is  never  seen  unaccompanied 
by  two  at  least.  There  are  a  set  of  little  ugly  varlets  of  black 
terriers,  of  the  true  Dandie  Dinmont  breed,  named  Spice,  Ginger, 
Mustard,  and  Whiskey  ;  a  large  greyhound  called  Hamlet,  and  a 
very  venerable  old  deer-hound  of  gigantic  size,  named  Maida,  be- 
sides Lady  Scott's  own  particular  dog  Risk,  and  sundry  pointers 
belonging  to  Charles  Scott. 

"  The  picture  goes  on  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  the  family.  *  * 
"  I  have  no  wish  to  go  to  the  church  at  Melrose,  for  I  am  told 
the  parson  is  a  very  ridiculous  old  fellow ;  and  having  heard  Sir 
Walter  take  him  off  one  morning,  I  am  sure  I  could  not  help 
laughing  were  I  to  go.  Newton,  who  goes  to  Edinburgh,  will 
carry  this  letter  enclosed  in  one  to  my  sister,  but  as  his  move- 
ments are  not  so  certain  as  those  of  the  post,  it  is  very  probable 

you  may  get  another  from  me  before  this  arrives." 

******* 

"  Abbotsford,  Sept.  21st  1824. 
******* 
"  The  portrait  of  Sir  Walter  is  nearly  finished  ;  but  I  find  it 
extremely  difficult  to  satisfy  myself  with  it.  He  dislikes  sitting 
very  much.  Yesterday  he  only  gave  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
and  then  carried  me  off  in  his  sociable,  with  two  other  gentlemen 
who  are  staying  here,  to  see  the  '  Yarrow,'  famous  in  song,  as,  in- 
deed, are  all  the  Scottish  rivers.  We  stopped  at  a  seat  of  the 
Duke  of  Buccleuch's,  called  Bow  Hill,  upon  the  grounds  of  which 
stand  the  ruins  of  Newark  Castle,  formerly  a  palace  of  the  kings 

*  This  ditty  is  given  at  length  in  Mr.  Hughes's  "  Scouring  of  the  White 
Horse."  —  Ed. 

17 


258 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1824. 


of  Scotland.  The  ruin  is  not  in  itself  fine,  but  it  stands, '  bosomed 
high  in  tufted  trees,'  on  an  eminence,  round  the  base  of  which  the 
river  winds,  and  dashes  away  rocks  and  woods ;  and  the  whole 
together  is  very  picturesque.  The  Yarrow  here  resembles  the 
'  bonny  Doone,'  with  the  advantage  of  having  much  higher  hills 
on  each  side  of  it.  Sir  Walter  had  ordered  a  detachment  of  the 
1  doggies '  (as  he  calls  them),  consisting  of  two  greyhounds  and  as 
many  terriers,  that  we  might  have  some  coursing  on  the  '  braes  of 
Yarrow.'  Charles  Scott  and  a  friend  of  his  had  accompanied  us 
on  horseback.  Owing  to  one  of  the  dogs  being  too  old,  and  the 
other  too  young,  they  only  killed  one  hare,  and  started  two  others, 
which  they  lost.  We  saw  a  great  deal  of  game  on  the  Duke's 
grounds,  consisting  of  pheasants,  blackcocks,  and  partridges ;  and 
I,  who  am  entirely  ignorant  of  all  sorts  of  sporting,  was  much  edi- 
fied by  the  conversation  of  the  party  on  the  subject.  Sir  Walter 
has  been  a  keen  sportsman  in  his  youth.  He  started  one  of  the 
hares  himself,  and  gave  the  view-hallo  with  the  lungs  of  a  Sten- 
tor.  Among  the  many  interesting  places  pointed  out  to  us  by  our 
host  on  this  occasion  was  the  cottage  in  which  Mungo  Park,  the 
celebrated  African  traveller,  was  born,  and  where  his  mother  still 
lives.  Sir  Walter  knew  Park  well,  and  describes  him  as  a  very 
fine-looking  man,  and  remarkable  for  personal  strength.  A  few 
days  ago  I  made,  at  the  request  of  Sir  Walter,  a  sketch  of  his 
game-keeper,  Tom  Purdey,  who  has  lived  with  him  sixteen  years, 
and  is  a  very  great  favourite  of  his  master's.  Tom  is  now  in  de- 
clining health,  and  Sir  Walter's  extreme  solicitude  about  him,  and 
the  attentions  he  pays  him,  are  strong  proofs  (if  any  were  wanting) 
of  the  goodness  of  his  heart.  I  was  gratified  the  other  day  at 
dinner  by  what  I  had  been  very  anxious  to  see,  namely,  a  haggis. 
It  was,  however,  a  small  one,  by  no  means  answering  in  appear- 
ance to  the  idea  Burns  gives  us  of  this  '  chieftain  of  the  pudding 
race.'  I  found  its  contents,  however,  very  good,  and  they  told 
me  it  was  a  genuine  specimen,  excepting  as  to  size.  I  have  now 
tasted  the  principal  Scotch  dishes  —  hodge-podge,  porridge  (which 
I  never  desire  to  see  again),  oat-cake,  and  Miss  Scott  has  prom- 
ised to  have  some  bannocks  of  barley  this  morning  at  breakfast  to 
complete  the  list.  There  is  a  very  patriotic  song  called  the  '  Ban- 
nocks of  Barley '  —  indeed  all  the  Scotch  dishes  are  rendered 


1824.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


259 


classical  by  their  poets.  All  the  company  that  were  here  when  I 
last  wrote  have  gone,  and  there  are  only  the  two  gentlemen  men- 
tioned above  (literary  men)  here  at  present.  I  am  afraid  I  shall 
miss  Wilkie,  who  is  in  Edinburgh,  but  will  not,  in  all  probability 
be  here  till  I  have  left. 

"  You  wonder,  you  say,  how  I  shall  be  able  to  bear  London 
after  Scotland ;  but  in  truth  I  am  most  anxious  to  get  back.  I 
have  enjoyed  myself  very  much;  but  I  am  never  contented  to 
be  long  on  a  visit,  even  among  the  most  pleasant  people  in  the 
world.  I  want  to  be  once  more  in  my  painting-room,  and  to 
work  again  in  earnest.  I  want  to  see  my  friends,  and  tell  them 
of  all  the  wonders  of  Scotland,  *******  an(j 
over  and  above  all,  I  want  to  see  your  dear  little  self  again.  It 
required,  as  you  know,  a  very  great  temptation  to  leave  London 
at  the  time  I  did,  and  the  trial  has  only  convinced  me,  more  than 
ever,  how  entirely  my  happiness  depends  upon  you. 

"  I  hope  to  finish  Sir  Walter's  portrait  to-morrow  ;  and  if  it  is 
dry  enough  I  shall  leave  Abbotsford  the  next  day.  I  shall  then 
be  obliged  to  remain  in  Edinburgh  a  few  days,  to  make  a  study 
from  a  picture  in  Holyrood  House.  I  suppose  I  can  go  to 
Culross  and  return  in  one  day  ;  and  after  that  I  shall  set  off  for 
London.  As,  however,  I  must  stop  in  Norfolk  for  a  few  days,  to 
finish  Lady  Harriet  Gurney's  picture,  I  fear  it  will  be  a  fortnight 
yet  before  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you." 

On  his  return  home  he  spent  a  week  in  Edinburgh  with  Edwin 
Landseer.  Sir  Walter,  who  had  run  up  for  a  day  to  Edinburgh, 
took  Landseer  back  with  him  to  Abbotsford,  "  where  I  am  sure," 
says  Leslie,  "  he  will  make  himself  very  popular,  both  with  the 
master  and  mistress  of  the  house,  by  sketching  their  doggies  for 
them." 

Irving,  still  in  Paris,  writes  to  express  his  satisfaction  with  the 
illustrations  from  '  Knickerbocker.' 


260 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1824. 


FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Paris,  Feb.  8,  1824. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  It  is  a  long  while  since  I  have  heard 
from  either  you  or  Newton.  How  are  you  both,  and  what  are 
you  doing  ?  I  see  among  the  pieces  to  be  exhibited  at  the  British 
Gallery,  a  t  Don  Quixote '  by  Newton,  which  I  presume  is  the 
little  picture  made  from  poor  Ogilvie,  which  I  have  before  heard 
of.  Do  you  not  intend  to  have  anything  ready  for  the  next  Exhi- 
bition ?  I  long  to  see  you  again,  to  have  some  good  long  talks  with 
you.  I  wish  you  were  here  at  present,  I  think  you  would  do  me 
good.  I  am  trying  to  get  some  manuscripts  in  order  for  a  couple 
more  volumes  of  the  '  Sketch  Book,'  but  I  have  been  visited  by  a 
fit  of  sterility  for  this  month  past  that  throws  me  all  aback,  and 
discourages  me  as  to  the  hope  of  getting  ready  for  a  spring  ap- 
pearance. I  have  a  Dutch  story  written,  which  I  have  shown  to 
friend  Foy,  for  I  like  to  consult  brother  artists.  He  thinks  it 
equal  to  any  of  my  others.  I  think  you  would  like  it.  I  have 
determined  also  to  introduce  my  i  History  of  an  Author,'  breaking 
it  into  parts  and  distributing  it  through  the  two  volumes.  It  had 
grown  stale  with  me,  and  I  never  could  get  into  the  vein  suffi- 
ciently to  carry  it  on  and  finish  it  as  a  separate  work.  Besides, 
the  time  that  has  elapsed  without  my  either  publishing  or  writing, 
obliges  me  to  make  the  most  of  what  I  have  in  hand  and  can 
soonest  turn  to  account.  I  have  a  few  other  articles  sketched  out 
of  minor  importance.  If  I  could  only  get  myself  into  a  brisk 
writing  mood,  I  could  soon  furnish  the  materials  for  two  volumes, 
and  if  these  were  well  received  and  paid  well,  I  should  then  have 
leisure  and  means  to  pursue  the  literary  plans  I  have  in  view. 
But  I  am  at  this  moment  in  a  sad  heartless  mood,  and  nothing 
seems  to  present  to  rouse  me  out  of  it.  Write  to  me  I  beg  of  you, 
and  say  something  to  stimulate  and  cheer  me  up.  Do  not  say 
anything  of  the  forgoing  literary  confidings  to  any  one. 

I  am .  sorry  to  see  '  Salmagundi '  is  published  at  London  with 
all  its  faults  upon  its  head.  I  have  corrected  a  copy  for  Galignani, 
whom  I  found  bent  upon  putting  it  to  press.  My  corrections  con- 
sist almost  entirely  in  expunging  words  and  here  and  there  an 


1824.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


261 


offensive  sentence.  I  have  a  set  of  your  illustrations  of  my 
works  ;  they  are  admirable.  I  wish  you  had  made  others  for 
'  Bracebridge  Hall,'  or  that  you  would  still  do  so.  I  still  think 
your  6  Dutch  Fireside '  worthy  of  being  painted  by  you  as  a 
cabinet  picture.  It  is  admirable.  The  engraving  from  Newton's 
portrait  of  me  is  thought  an  excellent  likeness  by  my  brother,  and 
by  others  here. 

I  see  Mr.  Foy  very  frequently,  and  the  more  I  see  of  him  the 
better  I  like  him.  I  thank  you  for  making  me  acquainted  with 
him.  I  am  very  much  incommoded  by  visits  and  invitations,  for 
in  spite  of  every  exertion  I  find  it  impossible  to  keep  clear  of 
society  entirely  without  downright  churlishness  and  incivility. 

Do  let  me  hear  from  you,  my  dear  Leslie,  as  soon  as  you  can 
spare  a  moment  to  the  pen.  I  am  sure  a  letter  from  you  will  be 
of  service  to  me,  as  a  visit  from  you  has  often  been,  when  in  one 
of  my  dispirited  moods.  Give  my  best  remembrances  to  your 
sister,  and  to  Newton  when  you  see  him. 

Yours  ever,    W.  I. 

FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Paris,  Rue  Richelieu,  No.  89, 
Dec.  8,  1824. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  have  been  for  a  long  time  intending 
to  write  to  you,  but  my  spirit  has  been  so  inert  as  not  to  be  able 
to  summon  up  a  page  full  of  ideas.  However,  as  Brockedon  is 
on  the  point  of  starting,  and  will  take  a  letter  free  of  cost,  I  will 
scrawl  a  line,  if  it  is  only  in  testimony  of  constant  recollection. 

The  *  Childe '  has  given  me  a  mere  inkling  of  his  northern 
visit — just  enough  to  tantalise  curiosity.  I  wish  you  would  give 
me  a  few  anecdotes  on  the  subject.  You  must  have  had  a  rare 
time ;  and  I  envy  above  everything  your  residence  at  Abbotsford. 
I  am  told  the  Great  Unknown  was  absolutely  besieged  by  a 
legion  of  "  panthers,"  that  you  really  surrounded  him  —  one  tak- 
ing a  point  blank  elevation  of  him  in  full  front  —  another  in  pro- 
file—  another  in  rear  —  happy  to  sketch  a  likeness,  whichever 
side  presented. 

To  you  the  visit  must  have  been  peculiarly  interesting  and  ad- 


262 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1824. 


vantageous ;  for,  knowing  your  taste  and  turn  of  mind,  I  am  sure 
you  would  find  Scott  full  of  precious  matter,  and  would  derive  a 
world  of  valuable  hints  from  your  conversation  with  him.  I  long 
to  hear  something  of  your  visit  at  Abbotsford,  and  would  give 
anything  for  a  good  long  talk  with  you  on  the  subject. 

I  wish  your  '  Sancho '  were  here  in  the  Exhibition.  I  should 
like  to  hear  what  the  Frenchmen  would  say  to  it :  it  is  so  infi- 
nitely better  than  anything  which  they  think  good,  that  I  doubt 
whether  they  would  know  how  to  appreciate  it.  There  are  two 
of  Lawrence's  paintings  here,  but  the  French  pass  by  without 
noticing  them.  The  only  remark  I  heard  made  was  from  two 
Frenchmen  on  Lawrence's  head  of  the  late  Due  de  Richelieu. 
One  looked  at  it,  with  a  screw  of  the  mouth,  "  Pas  mal"  said  he ; 
"  some  affectation,  something  of  colouring,"  and  so  they  passed  on. 

Have  you  begun  your  new  picture  for  Lord  Egremont? 
Brockedon  speaks  with  great  emphasis  of  your  '  Autolycus.'  I 
do  not  know  whether  you  have  done  anything  to  it  since  I  saw 
it,  or  whether  he  means  the  picture  in  its  half-finished  state.  I 
certainly  think  your  head  of  '  Autolycus '  one  of  your  happiest 
efforts  of  character  and  expression.  But,  in  fact,  you  have  now 
but  to  dash  boldly  at  whatever  you  conceive ;  you  have  the 
power  of  achieving  whatever  you  attempt,  and  the  certainty  of 
having  whatever  you  achieve  appreciated  by  the  public. 

When  you  see  Newton  remember  me  affectionately  to  him. 
Let  me  know  what  he  is  doing,  and  how  he  is  doing  it.  I  often 
look  back  with  fondness  and  regret  on  the  times  we  lived  together 
in  London,  in  a  delightful  community  of  thought  and  feeling ; 
struggling  our  way  onward  in  the  world,  but  cheering  and  encour- 
aging each  other.  I  find  nothing  to  supply  the  place  of  that 
heartfelt  fellowship.  I  trust  that  you  and  Newton  have  a  long 
career  of  increasing  success  and  popularity  before  you.  Of  my 
own  fate  I  sometimes  feel  a  doubt.  I  am  isolated  in  English  lit- 
erature, without  any  of  the  usual  aids  and  influences  by  which  an 
author's  popularity  is  maintained  and  promoted.  I  have  no  lit- 
erary coterie  to  cry  me  up ;  no  partial  reviewer  to  pat  me  on  the 
back  :  the  very  review  of  my  publisher  is  hostile  to  everything 
American.  I  have  nothing  to  depend  on  but  the  justice  and- cour- 
tesy of  the  public  ;  and  how  long  the  public  may  continue  to 


1825.] 


LESLIE'S  COKRESPONDENCE. 


263 


favour  the  writings  of  a  stranger,  or  how  soon  it  may  be  preju- 
diced by  the  scribblers  of  the  press,  is  with  me  a  matter  of  ex- 
treme uncertainty.  I  have  one  proud  reflection,  however,  to  sus- 
tain myself  with ;  —  that  I  have  never  in  any  way  sought  to  sue 
the  praises  nor  deprecate  the  censures  of  reviewers,  but  have  left 
my  works  to  rise  or  fall  by  their  own  deserts.  If  the  public  will 
keep  with  me  a  little  longer,  until  I  can  secure  a  bare  compe- 
tency, I  feel  as  if  I  shall  be  disposed  to  throw  by  the  pen,  or  only 
to  use  it  as  a  mere  recreation.  Do  write  to  me  soon.  I  long  to 
hear  from  you.  How  often  do  I  miss  you  in  moments  when  I 
feel  cast  down  and  out  of  heart ;  and  how  often  at  times  when 
some  of  the  odd  scenes  of  life  present  themselves  which  we  used 
to  enjoy  so  heartily  together. 

Remember  me  most  particularly  to  your  sister.  It  is  with  the 
greatest  concern  that  I  have  heard  of  the  afflicting  loss  *  which 
both  of  you  have  sustained ;  and  I  only  forbear  to  dwell  on  it 
because  I  know  that  in  cases  of  the  kind  all  consolation  by  letter 
is  mere  idle  formality.    God  bless  you,  my  dear  Leslie. 

Believe  me,  most  constantly  and  affectionately  yours, 

W.  I. 

P.  S.  —  My  brother  is  with  me,  and  desires  to  be  particularly 
remembered  to  you. 

1825. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Slender,  with  the  assistance  of  Shallow,  courting  Anne  Page.| 

Shallow  —  "Mistress  Anne,  my  cousin  loves  you."  —  Merrrj  Wives  of 
Windsor.    Act  iii.    Scene  4.  —  (Painted  for  Sir  Willoughby  Gordon).  Is 
this  the  picture  engraved  for  the  American  Art  Union  in  1858,  from  the 
collection  of  Mr.  Philip  Hone?  4 
(109)  Sir  Henry  Wotton  Presenting  the  Countess  Sabrina  with  a 
Valuable  Jewel  on  the  Eve  of  his  Departure  from  Vienna.  — 
(Painted  for  Mr.  J.  Major's  illustrated  edition  of  "  Walton's  Lives.") 

"  As  for  Sir  Henry  himself,  his  behaviour  had  been  such  during  the 
manage  of  the  Treaty,  that  the  Emperor  (Ferdinand  the  2nd)  took  him  to 
be  a  person  of  much  honour  and  merit;  and  did  therefore  desire  him  to 
accept  of  that  jewel,  as  a  testimony  of  his  good  opinion  of  him,  which  was 


*  The  loss  of  their  mother.  —  Ed. 


f  See  Introductory  Essay. 


264 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1826. 


a  jewel  of  diamonds  of  more  value  than  a  thousand  pounds.  This  jewel 
was  received  with  all  outward  circumstance  and  terms  of  honour  by  Sir 
Henry  Wotton.  But  the  next  morning,  on  his  departing  from  Vienna,  he, 
at  his  taking  leave  of  the  Countess  of  Sabrina —  an  Italian  lady  in  whose 
house  the  Emperor  had  appointed  him  to  be  lodged  and  honourably  enter- 
tained—  acknowledged  her  merits,  and  besought  her  to  accept  of  that 
jewel  as  a  testimony  of  his  gratitude  for  her  civilities."  —  Walton's  Life 
of  Sir  Henry  Wotton. 
Six  Drawings  from  the  Waverley  Novels.  — (For  the  first  Author's 
Edition.)    The  subjects  of  these  drawings  are  from  — 

Guy  Mannering.  —  Dominie  Sampson  unpacking  the  books.  Peveril 
of  the  Peak.  —  Peveril  turning  from  the  window,  perceives  Fenella 
kneeling  at  his  feet.  Rob  Roy.  —  The  sudden  apparition  of  Diana  Vernon, 
leaning  on  her  father's  arm,  to  Frank  Osbaldiston.  St.  Ronan's  Well.  — 
Mr.  Winterblossom  exhibiting  his  drawings  to  Lady  Penelope  Penfeather. 
Kenilworth.  —  Amy  Robsart  toying  with  Leicester's  jewels  and  orders. 
—  Wayland  Smith  in  the  disguise  of  a  pedlar,  showing  his  wares  to  Amy 
Robsart  and  Janet  Forster. 

In  the  course  of  this  year  Leslie  married  Miss  Harriet  Stone. 
His  first  letter  to  Irving  of  next  year  describes  his  new  happi- 
ness —  a  happiness  which  lasted  as  long  as  his  life. 

1826. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(60)  Don  Quixote  having  retired  into  the  Sierra  Morena  to  do 
Penance,  in  Imitation  of  Amadis  de  Gaul,  is  Prevailed  on  to  Re- 
linquish his  Design  by  a  Stratagem  of  the  Curate  and  the  Bar- 
ber, ASSISTED  BY  DOROTHEA. 

"  I  will  not  arise  from  hence,  thrice  valorous  and  approved  knight,  until 
your  bounty  and  courtesie  shall  grant  unto  me  one  boon,  which  shall  much 
redound  to  your  honour  and  prize  of  your  person,  and  to  the  profit  of  the 
most  disconsolate  and  wronged  damzel  the  sun  hath  ever  seen." 
#  "         #  *  *  *  *  * 

"  I  will  not  answer  you  a  word,  fair  lady,"  quoth  Don  Quixote,  "  nor 
hear  a  jot  of  your  affair,  until  you  arise  from  the  ground."  — "I  will  not 
get  up  hence,  my  lord,"  quoth  the  afflicted  lady,  "  if  first  of  your  wonted 
bounty  you  do  not  grant  my  request."  —  "  I  do  give  and  grant  it,"  quoth 
Don  Quixote,  "  so  that  it  be  not  a  thing  that  may  turn  to  the  damage  or 
hindrance  of  my  king,  my  country,  or  of  her  that  keeps  the  key  of  my 
heart  and  liberty."  —  "It  shall  not  turn  to  the  damage  or  hindrance  of 
those  you  have  said,  good  sir,"  replied  the  dolorous  damzel;  and  as  she 
was  saying  this,  Sancho  Panza  rounded  his  lord  in  the  ear,  saying  softly  to 
him,  "  Sir,  you  may  very  well  grant  the  request  she  asks,  for  it  is  a  matter 


1826.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


265 


of  nothing:  it  is  only  to  kill  a  monstrous  gyant,  and  she  that  demands  it,  is 
the  mighty  Princess  Micomicona,  Queen  of  the  great  kingdom  of  Micomi- 
con,  in  Ethiopia." 

******* 
"  The  Barber  kneeled  all  this  while,  and  could  with  much*ado  dissemble 
his  laughter,  or  keep  on  his  beard,  that  threatened  still  to  fall  off,  with 
whose  fall  perhaps  they  should  all  have  remained  without  bringing  their 
good  purpose  to  pass."  —  Shelton's  Translation  of  Bon  Quixote.  Part  4, 
Chap.  2. 

(Painted  for  the  Earl  of  Essex.) 
Queen  Katherine  and  her  Maid. — Henry  VIII.    Act  iii.   Scene  1. 
"  Take  thy  lute,  wench:  my  soul  grows  sad  with  troubles; 
Sing,  and  disperse  them,  if  thou  canst." 
(Diploma  Picture).    The  same  subject  was  repeated  for  Mr.  Sheep- 
shanks, and  is  now  in  the  National  Collection  at  South  Kensington. 

This  year  Leslie  was  elected  a  Member  of  the  Royal  Acade- 
my, and  his  first  child  (Robert  Charles)  was  born  on  the  14th  of 
May. 

St.  John's  Place,  Lisson  Grove, 

London,  Jan.  12th,  1826. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  Having  a  wife  and  picture  to  attend  to 
might  be  allowed  as  excuses  for  a  lazy  correspondent  among 
painters  and  married  men  —  but  bachelors  and  authors  may  not 
be  so  lenient  —  so  have  at  you.  I  have  heard  very  good  accounts 
of  you  from  my  sisters,  and  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dunlop,  and  lastly 
from  our  friend  Foy,  who  gave  me  hopes  of  seeing  you  before 
the  summer  was  over,  which  kept  me  from  writing  at  that  time. 
But  Christmas  came  and  you  did  not,  and  now  I  suppose  we  must 
not  look  for  you  before  the  spring.  I  long  to  hear  from  yourself 
what  you  have  been  about,  and  what  you  are  doing,  and  when 
you  are  really  coming.  As  for  myself,  I  have  (as  you  know) 
made  the  greatest  change  in  life  that  it  is  in  our  power  to  do,  and 
find  myself  so  much  the  happier,  and,  I  trust,  the  better  for  it, 
that  I  scarcely  seem  to  have  lived  before.  All  the  evils  of  matri- 
mony that  I  have  heard  or  read  of  appear  to  me  to  be  slanders, 
and  all  the  blessings  to  have  been  underrated  ;  I  am  now  sure  I 
can  wish  nothing  better  to  all  my  single  friends  than  a  good  wife 
to  each  of  them.  As  I  write  to  know  what  you  are  doing,  it  is 
but  fair  to  tell  you  what  I  am  about.  I  have  for  the  last  six 
months  been  very  busy  with  a  picture  from  '  Don  Quixote,'  on 


266 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1826. 


the  .same  scale  as  that  of  '  the  Duchess.'  The  scene  is  where  the 
Don  has  been  rusticating  in  the  Sierra  Morena,  and  is  drawn 
away  by  the  stratagem  of  the  curate  and  barber,  assisted  by 
Dorothea,  who  is  kneeling  at  his  feet  in  the  disguise  of  the  Prin- 
cess Micomicona.  Those  of  my  friends  who  have  seen  it  think  it 
will  be  my  best  picture,  but  I  never  know  well  what  I  am  about 
myself  till  I  have  done  it.  It  is  for  Lord  Essex.  As  soon  as  it 
is  finished,  I  am  to  commence  another  subject  from  the  Don  for 
the  Duke  of  Bedford.  It  is  Altisidora  pretending  to  faint  at  the 
presence  of  Don  Quixote,  as  he  passes  along  a  gallery  to  attend 
the  Duke  and  Duchess.  I  have  several  other  things  in  embryo 
which  you  shall  know  all  about  when  you  come.  I  have  not 
been  out  of  town  since  the  spring,  except  for  a  week  in  the  sum- 
mer, when  I  took  my  wife  to  Hastings.  On  my  wedding  expedi- 
tion I  visited  old  Warwick,  Oxford,  and  Blenheim  for  the  third 
time,  and  went  to  Birmingham,  as  I  dare  say  you  have  heard,  to 
see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van  Wart  and  your  brother.  Give  my  affec- 
tionate regards  to  him,  and  my  wife's  best  respects ;  she  was 
delighted  with  the  little  she  saw  of  him  and  with  your  sister's 
family.  My  sisters  had  a  very  quick  and  pleasant  passage  to 
America,  and  I  have  had  several  delightful  letters  from  them. 
Newton  is  quite  well,  and  engaged  on  a  picture  *  from  the  '  Beg- 
gar's Opera,'  — "  How  happy  could  I  be  with  either "  is  the 
passage.  Powell,  as  you  know,  disappears  annually  at  Christ- 
mas among  a  set  of  friends  that  we  know  nothing  of,  and  has  not 
yet  emerged  into  our  circle.  If  he  is  not  soon  heard  of,  I  must 
offer  a  reward  for  him,  for  he  is  one  of  the  few  that  I  find  it  hard 
to  be  without.  I  heard  from  Father  Luke  in  August  last :  he 
was  quite  well ;  I  dare  say  you  will  see  him  in  the  spring. 
How  pleasant  an  evening  you  and  your  brother,  Luke,  Newton, 
Powell,  and  I,  might  have  together.    Think  well  of  it ! 

Yours  ever, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
Paris. 

*  Now  in  Lord  Lansdowne's  gallery  at  Bowood.  —  Ed. 


1826.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


267 


Bordeaux,  Feb.  3,  1826. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  am  greatly  obliged  by  your  letter, 
especially  as  it  is  so  cheerful  a  one,  full  of  domestic  happiness 
and  good  news.  In  return  for  your  kindness,  I  am  about  to  give 
you  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  so  you  must  absent  yourself  from 
happiness  awhile,  i.  e.,  from  your  wife  and  your  painting,  and 
attend  to  what  I  request. 

There  is  a  very  interesting  work  printing  at  Madrid,  4  The 
Voyage  of  Columbus,'  compiled  from  his  papers  by  the  famous 
Bishop  Las  Casas,  and  in  part  composed  of  extracts  from  Colum- 
bus's journal.  It  is  in  Spanish,  and  I  have  undertaken  to  trans- 
late it  into  English,  Mr.  Everett,  our  minister  at  Madrid,  having 
secured  it  for  me.  I  wish  you  to  make  an  arrangement  with  Mur- 
ray at  once  for  the  purchase  of  the  translation,  or,  if  he  will  not  buy 
it,  with  Longman  or  Colburn.  I  am  told  it  will  make  about  two 
octavo  volumes.  Mr.  Everett  thinks  I  ought  to  get  1500  or  1000 
guineas  for  it.  I  shall  be  content  with  the  last  sum.  I  should 
have  written  to  Murray  on  the  subject,  but  I  have  had  such 
repeated  instances  of  his  inattention  to  letters,  and  have  been 
put  so  much  back  thereby,  that  I  won't  trust  to  correspondence 
any  more,  either  with  him  or  any  other  bookseller.  As  the  case 
admits  of  no  delay,  I  wish  you  to  see  him  at  once.  You  had 
better  drop  him  a  line,  letting  him  know  you  have  a  literary 
proposition  to  make  on  my  part,  and  requesting  him  to  appoint 
an  hour  when  you  can  find  him  at  home.  Whichever  bookseller 
you  make  an  arrangement  with,  get  him  to  announce  the  work  at 
once  as  preparing  for  publication  by  me.  Let  me  hear  from  you 
as  soon  as  possible ;  direct  to  me,  "  Legation  des  Mats  Vnis 
d'Amerique,  a  Madrid?  I  set  off  for  Madrid  in  the  course  of 
three  or  four  days.  My  brother  accompanies  me.  Mr.  Everett 
has  attached  me  to  the  Legation,  which  will  be  of  service  to  me 
in  travelling  and  residing  in  Spain.  I  am  sorry  to  inflict  such  a 
job  upon  you,  but  the  case  is  urgent,  and  so  are  my  necessities. 
If  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you  in  Spain  in  return,  either  in  find- 
ing you  a  part  of  Don  Quixote's  armour,  or  the  very  helmet  of 
Mambrino,  command  me.  When  you  write  to  me,  the  safest  way 
is  by  the  British  Ambassador's  bag. 


268 


EXTEACTS  FEOM 


[1826. 


I  am  delighted  with  the  works  which  you  and  Newton  have  in 
hand  and  in  prospect.  '  Don  Quixote  '  and  '  Gil  Bias  '  are  uni- 
versal works,  known  throughout  the  world,  and  painting  from 
them  is  like  painting  from  the  Bible,  or  from  ancient  and  classical 
history. 

I  have  been  writing  a  little  of  late,  but  have  no  prospect  of 
publishing  anything  original  for  some  time  to  come  ;  I  am  not 
anxious  to  do  so  ;  but  I  feel  the  exercise  of  the  pen  extremely 
beneficial  to  me  ;  I  was  quite  out  of  spirits  for  want  of  the  usual 
stimulus. 

When  I  get  to  Madrid  I  will  write  to  you  at  more  length  and 
leisure,  —  at  present  I  am  all  in  a  bustle. 

Tell  Newton  I  received  his  letter,  and  will  likewise  reply  to 
him  when  I  come  to  anchorage.  Give  my  kind  regards  to  Mrs. 
Leslie,  and  believe  me,  my  dear  Leslie,  ever  affectionately  yours, 

Washington  Irving. 

Lisson  Grove,  Feb.  23rd,  1826. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  A  week  elapsed  after  I  received  your 
letter  before  I  could  obtain  a  sight  of  Murray,  although  I  called 
on  him  and  left  a  note  requesting  him  to  let  me  know  when  I 
might.  He  says  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  judge  of  the  value  of 
Columbus's  Voyage  until  he  sees  it.  It  might  be  very  interesting 
or  it  might  be  very  dry  ;  he  therefore  cannot  make  any  arrange- 
ment until  it  is  done,  and  that  you  alone  can  be  the  only  judge  at 
present  whether  or  not  it  is  worth  doing.  He  had  told  Mr.  Rog- 
ers (whom  I  saw  a  day  or  two  since)  that  you  had  written  to  him 
on  the  subject,  and  Rogers  said  to  me  he  thought  it  would  be 
more  advisable  for  you  not  to  make  any  bargain  until  you  had 
done  it;  as  you  would  then  stand  a  better  chance.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  opinion,  I  think  I  had  better  not  apply  to  any  of 
the  other  booksellers  until  I  hear  from  you  again  ;  and  the  truth 
is,  they  are  all  just  now  in  so  great  a  panic,  occasioned  by  the 
recent  failures  here,  that  it  is  no  time  to  get  them  to  undertake 
anything.  Murray  says  he  does  not  know  whom  to  trust  among 
them.  He  would  gladly,  he  says,  receive  anything  from  you  of 
original  matter,  which  he  considers  certain  of  success,  whatever 
it  might  be  ;  but  with  regard  to  1  The  Voyage  of  Columbus,'  he 


1826.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


269 


cannot  form  any  opinion  at  present.  Let  me  know  as  soon  as 
possible  what  I  am  to  do  farther  for  you  in  this  business,  and  it 
shall  be  done  without  a  moment's  delay.  I  have  thoughts  of 
painting  something  from  the  life  of  Cervantes.  Can  you  give  me 
any  information  about  it  that  I  am  not  likely  to  get  here.  I 
should  like  very  much  to  know  what  is  the  authority  for  the  por- 
trait prefixed  to  the  editions  of  his  life.  If  you  could  put  up  for 
me  an  impression  of  the  earliest  print  of  him  extant  it  will  be 
very  useful  to  me.*  Why  should  you  not  translate  some  of  his 
works  ?  I  believe  we  have  nothing  of  him  in  English  but 4  Don 
Quixote '  and  his  '  Exemplary  Novels.'  I  remember  when  you 
were  in  London  some  years  ago,  you  read  me  a  scene  from  an  old 
play,  in  which  the  two  children  who  were  smothered  by  Richard 
III.  were  introduced  saying  their  prayers.  What  is  the  name  of 
the  play,  and  where  shall  I  find  it  ?  I  have  just  been  elected  an 
Academician. 

My  wife,  who  is  quite  well,  sends  her  best  respects  to  yourself 
and  your  brother  :  give  my  warmest  regards  to  him. 

Yours,  ever  affectionately, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

P.  S.  —  This  is  a  short  letter,  but  as  I  hope  very  soon  to  hear 
from  you,  I  shall  reserve  a  great  deal  I  have  to  say  till  then. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
Madrid. 


EROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

i  Madrid,  Feb.  23rd,  1826 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  gave  you  a  troublesome  commission 
to  execute,  in  a  letter  from  Bordeaux,  relative  to  '  The  Voyage  of 
Columbus.'  If  you  have  made  any  arrangement  for  me,  or  if 
there  are  any  demurs  on  the  subject,  in  consequence  of  the  size 
and  nature  of  the  work  not  being  particularly  specified,  you  may 
mention  that  the  work  makes  two  volumes  of  about  450  pages, 
each  page  containing  forty-five  lines,  each  line  forty-nine  letters ; 
*  There  is  an  admirable  portrait  of  him  at  Petworth.  —  Ed. 


270 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1826. 


from  this  a  bookseller  can  make  his  calculations.  The  narrative 
of  Las  Casas,  compiled  from  the  papers,  journal,  &c,  of  Colum- 
bus, makes  but  a  part  of  the  first  volume.  The  whole  work  con- 
sists of  a  collection  of  documents,  many  of  them  never  before 
published,  among  which  are  private  letters  of  Columbus  discov- 
ered last  year,  which  give  the  most  ample  and  satisfactory  infor- 
mation relative  to  the  discovery  and  voyages  of  Columbus,  and 
set  at  rest  several  questions  which  have  hitherto  been  in  dispute, 
particularly  the  claim  of  Americus  Vespucius  to  the  discovery  of 
the  New  World.  I  shall  enrich  my  translation  by  some  annota- 
tions and  additions  from  authentic  sources,  which  will  make  the 
English  publication  still  more  complete  than  the  Spanish.  The 
Spanish  work  is  by  Don  Martin  Fernandez  de  Navarrete,  Secre- 
tary of  the  Royal  Academy  of  History,  &c,  and  is  published 
under  sanction  of  the  Crown.  He  has  promised  me  any  assist- 
ance in  the  prosecution  of  my  undertaking.  The  London  book- 
sellers will  perceive  by  the  account  given  of  the  amount  of  letter- 
press contained  in  these  volumes  that  they  will  make  two  full 
quarto  volumes,  such  as  they  sell  for  three  guineas  a  volume.  It 
will  be  a  work  necessary  to  any  library.  You  can  communicate 
the  purport  of  the  above  in  a  note  to  any  one  of  the  booksellers 
who  has  entered  into  the  undertaking,  or  is  found  disposed  to  do 
so.  I  can  furnish  manuscript  as  soon  as  required.  Murray  has 
had  a  copy  of  the  manuscript  of  Las  Casas  offered  to  him  a  year 
or  two  since,  and  may  be  misled  by  supposing  that  to  be  the 
whole  of  the  present  work,  whereas  it  only  forms  a  part  of  the 
first  volume. 

So  much  for  business.  We  arrived  here  about  a  week  since, 
after  a  journey  of  five  days  from  Bordeaux.  I  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly interested  by  what  I  have  seen  of  Sp2tin,  although  a 
great  part  of  our  route  lay  through  Old  and  New  Castile,  the 
most  bleak  and  arid  part  of  the  peninsula,  and  as  joyless  a  track 
as  I  ever  travelled.  Biscay  and  Alava,  however,  had  much  to 
interest,  both  as  to  the  country  and  the  people.  Indeed,  the 
Spaniards  seem  to  surpass  even  the  Italians  in  picturesqueness ; 
every  mother's  son  of  them  is  a  subject  for  the  pencil.  It  is  a 
continual  wish  of  my  brother  and  myself  that  we  could  have  you 
and  Newton  with  us ;  you  might  lay  up  ample  materials  for  your 


1826.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


271 


Spanish  pictures.  The  interiors  of  the  houses,  too,  are  so  pecu- 
liar and  picturesque,  that  you  would  have  your  pencil  continually 
at  work. 

We  are  most  comfortably  situated,  having  an  apartment  in  the 
house  of  the  American  Consul.  We  are  buried  in  the  very 
depths  of  a  great  rambling  Spanish  house ;  our  windows  look 
upon  a  small  garden,  three  parts  of  which  are  surrounded  by  the 
house.  Our  windows  open  to  the  floor  with  iron  grates  to  them, 
through  one  of  which  we  have  a  wicket  by  which  we  can  enter 
the  garden.  We  have  the  stillness  of  a  cloister,  with  now  and 
then  the  bell  of  a  neighbouring  convent  to  help  the  illusion.  Our 
Consul,  Mr.  Rich,  is  a  great  collector  and  vendor  of  rare  books, 
and  I  am  surrounded  by  a  curious  library  entirely  at  my  com- 
mand. He  intends  coming  to  London  in  the  spring  to  sell  a  stock 
of  Spanish  and  other  works  which  he  has  collected,  and  I  intend 
to  give  him  letters  to  you  and  Newton.  He  is  a  most  obliging  and 
good-hearted  man,  and  one  who  may  be  of  great  service  to  you 
should  you  want  sketches,  studies,  &c,  from  this  country.  He  has  a 
valuable  collection  of  sketches,  studies,  &c,  of  Murillo,  Velasquez, 
&c,  which  he  intends  bringing  to  England  for  sale,  and  which  he 
intends  submitting  to  your  and  Newton's  inspection.  Should  I  be 
able  to  pick  up  anything  in  your  way  before  he  sets  off  I  will 
send  it  to  you,  or  if  there  is  anything  you  wish  from  here  in  the 
way  of  costumes,  &c,  &c,  let  me  know;  as  Mr.  Rich  will  be 
sending  boxes  and  parcels  I  can  easily  forward  anything  you  wish. 
I  shall  write  to  Newton  as  soon  as  I  feel  a  little  more  settled,  and 
get  through  some  introductory  visits.  Mr.  Everett  has  introduced 
me  to  the  diplomatic  circle,  and  on  Sunday  next  I  am  to  be  pre- 
sented to  the  King ;  so  if  you  desire  anything  at  the  Spanish 
court,  command  me. 

With  my  kind  regards  to  Mrs.  Leslie, 

I  am,  my  dear  Leslie,  yours  ever, 

W.  L 


272 


EXTRACTS  FEOM 


[1826. 


FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Madkid,  April  21st,  1826. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  — I  take  occasion  of  the  departure  of  Mr. 
Rich  to  scribble  you  a  few  lines,  as  much  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
troducing him  to  you  as  for  anything  else.  He  is  American 
Consul  at  this  place,  and  a  most  excellent  and  amiable  man.  I 
have  been  quartered  for  a  couple  of  months  in  the  same  house 
with  him,  t  and  in  a  manner  domesticated  with  him,  and  have 
never  been  more  pleasantly  situated.  He  is  a  great  collector  of 
books,  partly  as  a  hobby,  but  partly,  of  late  years,  as  a  source  of 
profit,  having  supplied  the  bibliomaniacs  of  London  with  the 
treasures  of  old  Spanish  literature.  In  this  respect  you  will  find 
him  very  interesting.  He  has  a  number  of  cases  of  very  rare  and 
curious  works  with  him,  and  having  lately  been  turning  his  atten- 
tion to  paintings  and  engravings,  has  a  few  paintings  with  him  as 
an  experiment,  and  a  great  number  of  studies,  sketches,  and  draw- 
ings of  celebrated  masters  which  he  has  picked  up  here,  among 
which  are  many  of  Murillo's.  He  has  also  a  valuable  stock  of 
engravings.  You  will  find  his  collection  very  interesting  to 
examine,  and  you  may  be  of  great  service  to  him  in  putting  him 
in  the  way  of  disposing  of  his  paintings,  sketches,  &c,  to  advan- 
tage, as  well  as  of  drawing  attention  of  artists,  &c,  to  them. 
Should  you  want  anything  from  Spain  in  the  way  of  costumes, 
&c,  he  would  be  able  to  procure  and  send  it  to  you,  for  he  is  one 
of  the  most  obliging  men  I  ever  met  with. 

You  wished  to  know  something  about  a  likeness  of  Cervantes. 
There  is  no  thoroughly  ascertained  likeness  extant.  The  most 
probable  one,  and  which  accords  with  the  description  given  by 
himself  of  his  physiognomy,  is  that  prefixed  to  his  life,  edited  by 
Navarrete,  and  published,  together  with  his  works,  in  Madrid,  in 
1819.  Mr.  Rich  has  a  copy  of  it  for  you,  and  also  a  collection  of 
various  prints  and  illustrations  of  Don  Quixote. 

The  old  play  about  which  you  inquire,  as  containing  scenes 
relative  to  the  young  princes  in  the  Tower,*  is  by  Middleton,  en- 

*  The  play  is  by  Heywood,  not  Middleton,  and  has  been  reprinted  by  the 
Shakespeare  Society.    Leslie  painted  a  very  touching  sketch  of  the  young 


1826.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


273 


titled  the  1  First  and  Second  Part  of  Edward  IV/  If  you  wish 
the  scenes  for  any  professional  purpose  I  can  transcribe  them  for 
you  in  a  letter,  as  I  have  them  by  me,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  put 
any  literary  forager  on  the  track  of  this  play,  as  I  have  an  article 
on  the  subject  half  sketched  among  my  papers,  which  I  intend 
some  day  or  other  to  make  use  of. 

I  am  occupying  myself  at  present  in  writing  the  life  and  voy- 
ages of  Columbus  ;  I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  known,  however,  but 
wish  it  to  be  supposed  I  am  busied  about  the  translation.  In  the 
curious  collection  of  Mr.  Rich  I  find  materials  collected  together 
which  I  should  otherwise  have  had  to  hunt  for  through  public 
libraries,  and  I  have  under  my  hand  the  most  rare  and  curious 
works  relative  to  the  discovery  of  America.  The  work  which  I 
had  intended  to  translate  is  a  voluminous  mass  of  mere  documents, 
which  afford  excellent  materials  for  a  work,  but  which  in  their 
present  form  would  repel  the  general  class  of  readers.  I  am  in 
hopes  of  making  a  work  that  will  be  acceptable  to  the  public. 

I  regret  continually,  now  that  you  and  Newton  are  engaged  in 
painting  Spanish  subjects,  that  you  could  not  get  a  peep  at  the 
country  and  its  people.  There  is  a  character  about  them  that  it 
is  not  easy  to  gather  from  mere  description.  The  countenance, 
figure,  air,  attitude,  walk,  and  dress  of  a  Spaniard  all  have  a 
peculiar  character.  The  common  people  are  wonderfully  pic- 
turesque in  all  their  attitudes,  groups,  and  costumes.  It  is  a 
source  of  continual  pleasure  to  my  brother  and  myself  in  walk- 
ing the  streets  to  notice  the  figures  and  groups  around  us,  and  we 
are  continually  regretting  that  you  and  Newton  are  not  here  to 
take  sketches. 

At  the  Duke  of  Bedford's  seat  (Wobura  Abbey)  there  is  a 
little  gallery  of  Spanish  costumes,  represented  by  small  figures 
of  clay  or  porcelain,  accurately  coloured.  They  are  made  in 
Spain,  and  are  beautiful  as  specimens  of  art,  while  they  are 
accurate  as  costumes ;  perhaps  the  same  may  be  met  with  in 
London.  There  is  such  national  character,  however,  in  the 
Spanish  dresses  even  at  the  present  day,  that  a  painter  cannot 
illustrate  Spanish  stories  without  attending  to  the  costumes  of 

princes  at  their  prayers.    It  is  in  the  Sheepshanks  collection.    There  is  a 
repetition  of  it  in  the  collection  of  Mr.  Joseph  Gillot,  at  Birmingham. 
18 


274 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1827. 


his  figures  ;  he  would  otherwise  commit  as  great  blunders  as 
the  Flemish  painters,  who  paint  Scripture  personages  in  Flemish 
dresses  and  armour. 

My  brother  desires  to  be  cordially  remembered  to  you.  Give 
my  kind  remembrances  to  Mrs.  Leslie,  and  believe  me,  my  dear 
Leslie, 

Ever  yours  affectionately,  W.  I. 

P.  S.  —  I  must  not  forget  to  congratulate  you  on  your  election 
to  the  Royal  Academy.  I  hope  you  will  rise  to  the  dignity  of 
hangman,  and  will  do  your  duty  by  Newton  and  the  rest  of  your 
old  gang. 

1827. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Lady  Jake  Grey  Prevailed  on  to  Accept  the  Crown. 

"  The  Duke  of  Suffolk,  with  much  solemnity,  explained  to  his  daughter 
the  disposition  the  late  king  had  made  of  his  crown  by  letters  patent;  the 
clear  sense  the  Privy  Council  had  of  her  right;  and  the  consent  of  the 
magistrates  and  citizens  of  London;  and  in  conclusion,  himself  and  North- 
umberland fell  on  their  knees,  and  paid  homage  to  her  as  Queen  of  England. 
The  poor  lady,  somewhat  astonished  at  their  behaviour  and  discourse,  but 
in  no  respect  moved  by  their  reasons,  or  in  the  least  elevated  by  such  un- 
expected honours,  answered  them,  '  That  the  laws  of  the  kingdom,  and 
natural  right  standing  for  the  king's  sisters,  she  would  beware  of  burthen- 
ing  her  weak  conscience  with  a  yoke  that  did  belong  to  them ;  that  she 
understood  the  infamy  of  those  who  had  permitted  the  violation  of  right 
to  gain  a  sceptre;  that  it  were  to  mock  God,  and  deride  justice.  Besides,' 
said  she,  ?  I  am  not  so  young,  nor  so  little  read  in  the  guiles  of  Fortune  as 
to  suffer  myself  to  be  taken  by  them.  *  *  *  What  she  adored  but  yes- 
terday, is  to-day  her  pastime.  *  *  My  liberty  is  better  than  the  chain  you 
proffer  me,  with  what  precious  stones  soever  it  be  adorned,  or  of  what  gold 
soever  framed.  I  will  not  exchange  my  peace  for  honourable  and  precious 
jealousies,  for  magnificence  and  glorious  fetters.  And  if  you  love  me  in 
good  earnest,  you  will  rather  wish  me  a  secure,  a  quiet  fortune,  though 
mean,  than  an  exalted  condition,  exposed  to  the  wind,  and  followed  by 
some  dismal  fall.' 

"  All  the  moving  eloquence  of  this  speech  had  no  effect,  and  the  Lady 
Jane  was  at  length  prevailed  on,  or  rather  compelled  by  the  exhortations 
of  her  father,  the  intercessions  of  her  mother,  the  artful  persuasions  of 
Northumberland,  and,  above  all,  the  earnest  desires  of  her  husband  whom 
she  tenderly  loved,  to  comply  with  what  was  proposed  to  her."  — Life  of 
Lady  Jane  Grey.  (Painted  for  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  and  engraved.) 
(449)  Study  for  a  Head  of  Sancho  Panza.  —  (458)  Study  for  a  Head  of 
Don  Quixote. 


1827.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE 


275 


Fro^i  the  correspondence  of  this  year  I  only  extract  the  fol- 
lowing from  Leslie's  old  chum,  Peter  Powell.  It  is  curious,  as 
showing  what  a  revelation  Giotto  was  to  the  men  of  this  time. 
It  is  a  great  pity  that  Leslie  never  did  see  the  great  decorative 
works  of  Italy  in  their  places.  I  cannot  but  think  some  of  his 
judgments  would  have  been  materially  modified  by  the  expe- 
rience. 

Padua,  27th  November,  1827. 

Dear  Leslie,  —  I  hope  you  will  not  think  me  troublesome, 
although  it  be  scarcely  a  twelvemonth  since  the  date  of  my  last 
letter.  I  believe,  however,  I  have  determined  to  run  all  risks, 
and  to  indulge  my  eternal  scribbling  propensity  at  your  expense 
as  well  as  my  own.  Here  I  am,  then,  enjoying  the  luxuries  of  an 
Italian  climate,  with  as  good  a  fire  as  I  have  the  talent  to  make 
with  sticks  (which,  I  confess,  please  me  not  so  well  as  coals)  ;  the 
wind  blowing  in  at  the  half-shut  door,  which  must  be  left  open,  or 
I  should  soon  be  all  ham,  from  the  curing  properties  of  the  chim- 
ney, which  smokes  marvellously  well ;  out  of  doors  the  water  is 
all  ice,  and  the  opposite  mountains  are  covered  with  snow. 
Nevertheless,  I  am  pleased  with  Italy,  and  really  ought  not  to 
crack  jokes  upon  so  respectable  a  climate  on  the  whole,  for  up  to 
the  middle  of  this  month  {November)  the  weather  has  been  de- 
lightful ;  and,  at  that  period  even,  the  day  all  through  has  been 
frequently  warmed  by  an  unclouded  sunshine.  There  are  no 
November  fogs  to  be  had  here  for  love  or  money ;  to-day  the  sun 
is  shining  charmingly,  and  the  cold  has  this  advantage,  that  I  get 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  men  wrapped  up  in  their  magnificent 
cloaks.  Even  those  that  are  threadbare  are  so  fine  as  to  the 
drapery,  and  are  worn  in  such  a  style  that  the  beggars  here  ap- 
pear to  be,  what  poor  Fuseli  so  eloquently  said  of  Michael  An- 
gelo's,  the  very  patriarchs  of  poverty.  But  the  dam'd  French 
(God  forgive  me  for  swearing,  as  the  old  women  say)  are  making 
rapid  strides  here,  as  well  as  everywhere  else,  to  destroy  every- 
thing that  is  good  in  taste,  particularly  in  dress,  and  to  substitute 
their  own  contemptible  frippery.  One  is  truly  surprised  how 
they  ever  could  have  carried  their  fashions  into  countries  where 
the  taste  was  so  infinitely  greater  than  their  own ;  but  unaccount- 


276 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1827. 


able  as  it  may  be,  such  is  unfortunately  the  fact ;  and  every 
woman  above  the  common  class  here  has  thrown  aside  the  grace- 
ful drapery  of  her  own  country  —  above  all  the  beautiful  veil  — 
to  figure  away  in  a  preposterous  French  bonnet  and  quilted  pet- 
ticoats. I  suppose  you  will  have  heard  something  of  me  through 
John  Chalon,  who  I  met  with  at  Geneva,  and  with  whom  I 
afterwards  visited  the  Valley  of  Chamounix  and  the  celebrated 
Mont  Blanc.  I  find  he  is  a  disappointed  candidate,  as  well  as 
Newton,  for  academical  honours.  You  have,  perhaps,  also  heard 
that  I  fell  in  with  Callcott  and  his  wife  at  Venice,  and  have  not 
yet  fallen  out  with  them,  although  they  are  at  present  at  Milan 
and  /  am  here.  I  had  been  at  Venice  some  time  when  they  arrived, 
and  the  first  I  heard  of  him  was  from  the  English  Consul  there, 
who  told  me  that  he  was  very  ill ;  and  accordingly,  on  going  to 
his  hotel,  I  found  him  in  bed,  looking  very  woe-begone  and  ter- 
ribly hipped.  It  turned  out,  however,  that  he  was  more  frightened 
than  hurt,  and  the  doctor  pronounced  his  disorder  to  be  of 
short  duration,  though  poor  Callcott's  face  was  as  long  as  my  arm. 
In  two  days  he  was  quite  well,  and  we  enjoyed  about  ten  days  to- 
gether at  Venice  very  much,  as  you  may  suppose.  We  are  both 
somewhat  disappointed  in  Tintoretto  upon  the  whole,  although 
some  of  his  pictures  are  very  fine  ;  but  certainly  Titian  had  noth- 
ing to  fear  from  him  as  a  rival,  as  far  as  the  real  excellence  of 
their  works  went.  But  I  must  reserve  the  canvassing  these  mat- 
ters more  minutely  to  the  period  which  I  anticipate  with  great 
pleasure,  that  of  shaking  you  by  the  hand,  and,  if  you  will  let  me, 
kissing  your  wife  and  all  the  little  ones,  for  I  suppose  there  will 
be  a  lot  by  that  time  in  addition  to  Michael  Angelo  Peter  Paul 
Antony  Raphaelle  Charles  Robert,  who  was  in  his  infancy  when 
I  quitted  my  native  land.  I  expect  to  see  some  proof  of  early 
genius  in  sketches  in  water,  made  with  pap-spoons.  I  have  heard 
all  about  the  Exhibition,  and  some  of  the  proceedings  of  that 
notorious  body  to  which  you  now  have  the  honour  to  belong,  and 
for  which  you  officiated  last  year  in  the  capacity  of  sheriff  or 
hangman ;  but,  like  other  hangmen,  you  must  not  expect  to 
please  all  you  hang.  However,  you  have  won  poor  Collins's 
generous  heart  for  ever,  I  understand.  Mrs.  Callcott,  who  I  had 
never  before  seen  more  than  once,  I  like  vastly,  and  she  is  cer- 


1827.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


277 


tainly  a  most  extraordinary  woman  in  point  of  information  and 
talent ;  notwithstanding  which  we  are  become  excellent  friends  ! ! ! 
The  Callcotts  and  I  left  Venice,  and  visited  Padua,  Mantua,  and 
Verona  together ;  after  which  they  went  to  Milan,  which  I  had 
seen,  and  they  had  not,  and  we  expect  to  join  again  either  at  Bo- 
logna or  Florence.  This  unexpected  rencountre  at  Venice  has,  I 
believe,  been  very  agreeable  to  all  of  us.  Young  Lewis  (the  animal 
painter)  fell  in  with  us  while  at  Venice.  Indeed,  if  he  had  not 
recognised  us  we  should  never  have  known  him,  on  account  of  a 
huge  pair  of  mustachios  which  had  come  to  maturity  during  his 
tour  in  Germany,  where  he  learnt  to  smoke  much  and  shave 
little.  We  left  him  at  Venice  in  company  with  a  Mr.  Hoskins, 
an  artist,  who  has  been  studying  for  the  last  two  or  three  years  at 
Rome.  I  have  been  delighted  beyond  measure  with  some  of  the 
fresco  paintings  of  the  very  early  masters.  There  is  a  beautiful 
chapel  in  this  city  entirely  painted  by  the  most  celebrated  of  those 
great  men,  namely,  Giotto,  the  contemplation  of  which  has  made 
an  entire  revolution  in  my  ideas  respecting  what  is  termed  High 
Art.  I  have  been  making  some  imperfect  sketches  from  them, 
for  I  do  not  draw  the  figure  well  enough  to  do  justice  to  them,  or 
to  what  I  feel  of  them.  I  hope  that  I  may  like  Raphaelle's 
works  at  Rome  as  well,  and  I  shall  be  quite  satisfied.  Raphaelle 
evidently  studied  and  formed  his  own  art  upon  the  works  of  this 
extraordinary  man,  who  lived  about  sixty  years  before  the  other. 
The  frescoes  I  speak  of  are  most  of  them  in  fine  preservation, 
although  more  than  five  hundred  years  old.  This  splendid  chapel 
had  been  condemned  to  be  dilapidated,  with  many  others  in  Italy, 
but  it  being  represented  to  Napoleon  that  it  contained  Giotto's 
frescoes,  he  ordered  it  to  be  preserved.  My  dear  fellow,  you 
ought  to  visit  Italy,  if  it  were  only  to  see  this  chapel,  for  I  know 
no  one  with  whose  feelings  and  taste  it  would  be  so  congenial, 
unless  it  were  Stotharcl.  I  have  got  to  the  end  of  my  tether, 
without  doing  justice  to  many  of  our  mutual  friends,  who  I  ought 
to  mention,  but  to  whom  (particularly  Newton,  the  Condeys,  and 
Constable)  you  will  remember  me  kindly.  If  you  will  muster  up 
resolution  a  second  time  to  write  to  me  immediately,  a  letter  ad- 
dressed Poste  restante,  Florence,  will  reach  before  I  leave ;  and 
I  need  not,  I  hope,  acid  that  it  will  give  very  great  pleasure  to 


278 


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[1828. 


one  who  is  with  every  sincere  wish  for  the  happiness  of  you  and 
yours,  Ever,  your  affectionate  friend, 

P.  Powell. 

P.  S.  —  Newton  owes  ine  a  letter ;  tell  him  I  want  to  be  paid. 
1828. 

Tlie  Pictures  of  this  Year  were  not  exhibited.  They  are  The  Bride.  (Engraved 
by  Finden.)  —  A  Portrait  of  Miss  Stephens  standing  at  a  Harp- 
sichord. (Painted  for  the  Earl  of  Essex,  and  engraved.)  A  Lady  in  a 
Dutch  Dress,  with  a  Screen  in  her  Hand.  —  (Engraved  by  Finden.) 

On  the  1st  of  February  in  this  year  was  born  the  painter's  sec- 
ond child,  Harriet  Jane. 

Madrid,  Feb.  16,  1828. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  Your  application  for  the  sketch  illustra- 
tive of  your  picture  has  been  made  at  a  most  unfortunate  time, 
for  my  mind  is  quite  diverted  from  subjects  of  the  kind,  and  is  at 
this  moment  so  hurried  and  occupied  with  a  thousand  things, 
prior  to  my  leaving  Madrid  on  a  tour  to  the  South,  that  I  cannot 
for  the  life  of  me  devise  anything  to  the  purpose.*  Sketches  of 
the  kind  that  are  to  stand  by  themselves,  and  take  care  of  them- 
selves, in  those  collections  of  jeux  d'esprit,  require  some  lucky 
thought,  or  something  striking  either  in  conception  or  execution, 
and  at  this  moment  I  can  command  neither.  If  I  can  think  of 
anything  in  time,  I  will  send  it  to  you,  as  I  presume  the  work  for 
next  Christmas  will  not  be  immediately  put  to  press. 

Columbus  I  understand  is  printed,  but  the  publication  deferred 
for  some  weeks.  Why,  I  know  not.  I  can  get  no  letters  from 
"  the  Murray  ; "  and  "  the  Newton  "  to  whom  I  wrote  to  collect 
me  information,  wrote  me  a  reply  without  imparting  any.  I  pre- 
sume when  he  scribbled  his  letter,  he  was  on  the  point  of  a  scam- 
per, either  to  the  east  or  the  west. 

I  am  glad  to  hear  you  have  taken  in  hand  your  sketch  of  '  Sir 

*  Leslie  had  asked  Irving  to  write  something  for  one  of  the  Annuals  to  accom- 
pany one  of  his  pictures.  —  Ed. 


1828.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


279 


Roger  and  the  Gipsies.'  I  think  you  will  make  a  charming  pic- 
ture of  it.  Wilkie  is  passing  the  winter  here,  and  we  are  daily- 
together,  as  you  and  I  used  to  be  in  old  times  in  London.  He 
has  just  finished  a  picture  with  which  I  am  greatly  pleased.  I 
think  in  some  respects  he  has  benefited  greatly  by  his  visit  to 
Italy.  This  painting  is  in  a  different  style  from  any  of  his  others, 
painted  with  less  minute  detail,  but  with  great  richness,  force,  and 
freedom.  He  looks  back  upon  the  minute  labour  of  accessories 
and  details  in  his  earlier  pictures  as  an  error,  which  he  should 
avoid  had  he  to  commence  his  career  again.  The  present  picture, 
however,  is  meant  more  as  a  sketch  than  a  finished  painting.  It 
is  admirably  characteristic  of  Spain  and  its  inhabitants. 

We  were  greatly  amused  to  hear  of  the  classic  expedition  of 
Peter  Powell  to  Italy.  Wilkie  supposes  Peter  means  to  con- 
clude his  various  entertainments  of  oratorios,  melodramas,  &c,  by 
a  grand  representation  of  the  6  Last  Judgment '  of  Michael  Angelo. 

I  am  glad  to  learn  that  matrimony  sits  so  lightly  and  happily 
upon  you.  It  is  a  great  lottery,  but  there  are  invaluable  prizes  in 
it ;  and  you  appear  to  have  been  at  the  lucky  lottery  office.  Give 
my  kindest  regards  to  Mrs.  Leslie,  to  whom  I  am  much  obliged  for 
making  you  so  good  a  wife,  and  as  your  boy  advances  in  under- 
standing, prepare  him  to  look  up  to  me  with  great  respect  and 
veneration  when  we  meet. 

I  set  off  for  the  south  of  Spain  in  the  course  of  eight  or  ten 
days.  I  am  in  hopes  my  brother  Peter  will  be  able  to  accompa- 
ny me,  though  his  health  has  been  so  delicate  for  some  weeks 
past,  in  consequence  of  an  attack  of  headaches,  that  he  sometimes 
seems  to  doubt  his  being  competent  to  the  journey.  I  have  lately 
been  joined  by  a  nephew  from  America,  Theodoric  Irving,  a  fine 
handsome  youngster  of  between  eighteen  and  nineteen,  who,  I  be- 
lieve, I  shall  take  on  the  tour  with  me. 

Yours  ever,  my  dear  Leslie, 

W.  Irving. 

London,  March  19$,  1828. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  have  lately  received  your  answer  to 
my  request  in  behalf  of  Alaric  Watts,  and  I  beg  you  will  not 
give  yourself  any  trouble  about  the  little  sketch.    If  anything 


280 


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[IP  9. 


should  occur  to  you  which  you  can  throw  off  with  ease,  so  much 
the  better ;  if  not,  never  mind.  If  we  get  nothing  from  you  by 
the  end  of  June,  Watts,  will  ask  somebody  else  to  do  it. 

Murray  sent  me  your  '  Life  of  Columbus '  as  soon  as  it  was 
published,  and  I  could  scarcely  lay  it  down  till  I  had  got  through 
it.  I  am  so  much  out  of  the  world  that  I  have  seen  no  one  else 
who  has  read  it ;  and  therefore  I  don't  know  what  is  thought  of  it, 
but  I  shall  be  much  surprised  if  it  does  not  place  you  in  the  first 
rank  of  biographical  and  historical  writers.  To  me  it  had  all  the 
fascination  of  a  novel,  with  the  additional  interest  of  real  history. 
My  wife  was  so  charmed  with  the  beautiful  character  you  have 
drawn  of  Isabella,  that  she  wishes  to  call  our  little  daughter  (who 
is  not  yet  christened)  after  her.  I  am  now  reading  Robertson's 
'  Charles  V.,'  and  I  find  by  the  character  he  gives  of  the  faithless 
Ferdinand  that  you  are  fully  justified  in  your  censures  of  his  con- 
duct to  Columbus.  I  have  not  been  able  to  finish  my  picture  of 
'  Sir  Roger  and  the  Gipsies '  to  my  mind,  and  shall  not  exhibit  it 
this  year.  Newton's  picture  I  have  not  seen  for  some  time,  but  I 
intend  calling  on  him  to-day,  to  leave  this  letter  for  him  to  for- 
ward by  Mr.  Rich,  who  I  hear  is  in  town. 

I  am  writing  in  a  great  hurry,  and  when  more  at  leisure  shall 
give  you  a  longer  sheet.  You  say  I  am  to  teach  my  boy  to  look 
up  to  you  with  great  respect  when  you  come  here.  Pray  when 
will  that  be  ?  I  am  not  without  hopes  you  will  be  induced  to  ac- 
company Wilkie,  who,  I  understand,  returns  this  spring.  Harriet 
sends  her  best  respects  and  good  wishes  to  yourself  and  brother ; 
to  which  add  the  affectionate  regards  of 

Yours,  dear  Irving,  ever, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
Madrid. 

1829. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(134)  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  and  the  Gipsies. 

"  She  told  him  that  he  was  a  bachelor,  but  would  not  be  so  long  ;  and 
that  he  was  dearer  to  somebody  than  he  thought.    The  knight  still  re- 


1829.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


281 


peated  that  she  was  an  idle  baggage,  but  bid  her  go  on."  —  Spectator, 
No.  180. 

The  Duke  and  Duchess  Reading  Don  Quixote.  (Engraved.  Now  in  the 
possession  of  Joseph  Gillott,  Esq.,  Birmingham.)  —  Portraits  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Dillwyn  and  their  Family.  —  Portraits  of  Lord  Hol- 
land, Miss  Fox,  and  Lady  Affleck  (Lady  Holland's  mother.) 

/ 

Washington  Irving  was  in  London  this  year  as  Secretary  of 
the  American  Legation. 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

Sept.  11th,  1829. 

My  Dear  Betsey,  —  *  *  *  We  returned  about  three  weeks 
since  from  Mr.  Dillwyn's,  where  I  painted  a  small  picture 
of  his  whole  family,  so  that  to  me  the  excursion  was  no  holiday. 
To  Harriet  it  was,  and  she  and  the  children  enjoyed  the  beautiful 
rambles  about  the  house  very  much.  We  were  there  six  weeks ; 
Mrs.  Dillwyn  had  very  kindly  allotted  to  the  children  a  large 
play  room  to  themselves  besides  their  bed-room.  Little  Robert's 
greatest  delight  was  walking  with  me  to  the  farm  (which  was 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  house)  every  morning  before  break- 
fast, to  see  the  cows,  pigs,  geese,  ducks,  and  above  all  a  litter  of 
puppies.  On  our  journey  from  London  we  went  through  Bath 
and  Bristol,  and  crossed  the  Severn  to  Chepstow,  which  was  new 
to  me.  We  had  but  one  day  to  stay  there,  which,  unfortunately, 
was  a  rainy  one.  We,  however,  made  an  excursion  in  a  post- 
chaise  to  Tintern  Abbey,  which  is  about  five  miles  from  Chep- 
stow, and  were  amply  repaid  by  the  sight  of  the  most  magnificent 
ruin  we  had  ever  beheld.  The  showers  obscured  the  beautiful 
scenery  by  which  it  was  surrounded,  but  the  Abbey  itself  we  were 
able  to  enjoy  at  intervals.  On  our  return  to  London  we  chose  an 
entirely  different  route,  and  as  Harriet's  situation  did  not  admit  of 
very  rapid  travelling,  we  were  four  days  on  the  road.  The  first 
night  we  slept  at  Cardiff,  and  the  next  morning  visited  the  Castle, 
the  most  modern  part  of  which  is  occasionally  inhabited  by  Lord 
Bute,  to  whom  it  belongs.  The  ruins  of  the  old  keep  still  remain, 
and  part  of  the  old  wall,  which  is,  I  suppose,  as  old  as  the  time  of 
William  the  Conqueror,  as  it  was  there  that  his  son,  Robert  Duke 


282 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1829. 


of  Normandy,  was  confined  by  his  brother,  William  Rufus.  In 
the  modern  apartments  there  are  some  curious  old  family  pictures, 
but  nothing  else  very  interesting.  The  next  night  we  slept  at 
Gloucester,  and,  from  our  inn  windows,  had  a  fine  view  of  its 
beautiful  cathedral  by  moonlight.  In  the  morning  we  had  time 
to  see  the  interior  of  it,  and  were  there  during  a  part  of  the  ser- 
vice, at  the  commencement  of  which  our  little  baby  was  ordered 
out  by  the  Dean  for  talking,  which  she  only  meant  as  an  imita- 
tion of  the  clergyman  who  was  reading.  She  was,  however,  al- 
lowed to  stand  by  the  outer  door,  where  she  heard  the  organ  and 
the  chanting  of  the  choristers  with  great  delight.  Robert  behaved 
with  the  most  perfect  decorum,  and  was  inexpressibly  delighted 
with  the  music  and  the  very  splendid  interior  of  the  church.  The 
east  window  is  said  to  be  the  finest  in  England.  It  is  immensely 
large,  and  of  the  richest  style  of  old  stained  glass.  From  Glou- 
cester we  proceeded  through  Cheltenham  to  Oxford,  and  had  time 
on  the  following  morning  before  the  coach  started,  to  look  into 
New  College  Chapel,  which  contains  the  beautiful  window  de- 
signed by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  which  is  more  than  ever  val- 
uable, as  the  original  paintings  he  made  for  it  were  burnt  a  few 
years  ago  in  a  fire  that  happened  at  Belvoir  Castle.  We  also 
walked  round  the  delightful  garden  belonging  to  this  college,  and 
then  took  leave,  with  much  regret,  of  this  most  delicious  of  all  the 
towns  I  ever  saw.  We  got  safe  home  about  four  o'clock,  after  a 
journey  of  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  of  rather  an  anxious 
nature  to  me  as  you  may  suppose,  with  two  young  children  and  a 
wife  within  a  few  weeks  of  her  confinement.  The  children  bore 
it  extremely  well,  and  were  exceedingly  good,  and  I  am  happy  to 
say  Harriet  has  not  suffered  in  the  least  from  it.  We  found  the 
difference  between  the  posting  and  the  stage  coach  expense  so 
so  trifling,  that  we  used  the  former  mode  as  far  as  Oxford. 
I  rode  all  that  way  on  the  dickey  of  the  chaise,  and  often 
had  one  of  the  children  with  me,  who  was  handed  in  and  out 
through  the  front  window.  Little  Robert  and  the  baby  have 
been  playing  at  post-chaises  and  postillions  ever  since.  *  She 

*  Leslie  painted  a  picture  of  children  playing,  for  Sir  Robert  Wigram,  in 
1847,  perhaps  from  a  sketch  done  from  his  own  little  ones  at  this  time.  The 
picture  was  repeated,  and  the  repetition  is  now  in  the  gallery  of  Thomas  Miller 
Esq.,  Preston. 


1829.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


233 


walked  very  well  before  we  left  London,  and  now  talks  all  day 
long,  and  remarkably  plain  for  her  age.  Since  my  return  I  have 
begun  a  very  large  picture  from  the  '  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,' 
containing  Falstaff  and  most  of  the  characters,  to  the  number  of 
fifteen ;  but  more  of  this  when  I  write  again.  Harriet  sends  her 
love  to  you,  and  all,  and  believe  me, 

Yours,  as  ever, 

C.  R.  L. 

On  Oct.  19th,  Leslie's  third  child,  Caroline  Anna,  was  born. 

Miss  Leslie  had  some  time  before  this  made  her  first  essay  as 
an  authoress,  and  had  entrusted  her  bantling  to  her  brother's  care. 
The  following  letter  will  show  how  tenderly  and  judiciously  he 
performed  his  task. 

London,  Nov.  12th,  1829. 

Dear  Eliza,  —  I  should  have  written  sooner  to  inform  you 
of  the  birth  of  another  daughter,  but  I  wished  also  to  be  able  to 
give  you  some  account  of  a  child  of  your  own,  of  whose  welfare, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  have  been  too  negligent  since  you  committed 
it  to  my  care.  I  can  now,  however,  tell  you  a  little  of  both  of 
them.  Harriet  was  confined  on  the  19  th  of  last  month  (my 
birthday)  with  a  fine  little  girl,  and  both  she  and  it  have  gone  on 
extremely  well.  And  now  for  your  baby,  who  has  been  a  long 
time  at  nurse  at  Mr.  Ebers's,  with  little  advantage,  I  fear,  to  its 
worldly  prospects.  After  calling  several  times  in  vain,  I  wrote  to 
him  and  so  got  it  away,  but  with  no  answer.  I  carried  it  to-day 
to  Mrs.  Hofland,  to  ask  her  opinion  and  advice  about  it.  She 
bears  the  character  of  a  very  amiable  woman,  and  one  always 
ready  to  the  utmost  of  her  power  to  serve  other  authors.  I  had 
a  long  conversation  with  her,  and  I  believe  from  what  she  says, 
there  is  little  more  to  be  obtained  for  children's  books  here  than 
in  America.  She  tells  me  there  are  many  ladies  of  fortune  who, 
being  fond  of  seeing  themselves  in  print,  write  books  of  that 
class  and  give  them  away  to  the  publishers,  and  as  their  produc- 
tions sell  well,  this  is  of  course  to  the  disadvantage  of  authors 
who  cannot  afford  to  write  for  nothing.  Mrs.  Hofland  got  but 
ten  pounds  for  her  '  Son  of  a  Genius,'  the  sale  of  which  has  pro- 


284 


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[1829. 


duced  a  small  fortune  to  the  publishers.  She  thinks  you  would 
obtain  more  by  writing  for  the  annuals,  and  if  you  have  anything 
unpublished  that  you  can  send  me  a  written  copy  of  before  it  is 
printed  in  America  —  either  tales  for  children  or  grown  people 
—  I  will  use  all  the  interest  I  have  with  the  publisher  to  get 
you  a  good  price  for  them ;  or,  if  you  will  attempt  a  novel  and 
trust  me  with  it,  I  will  do  what  I  can,  and  promptly,  too,  as  I  am 
most  anxious  to  retrieve,  in  some  degree,  the  ground  I  have  lost 
with  you.  In  one  of  your  letters  you  wish  me  to  inquire  what 
the  booksellers  will  give  for  an  American  novel.  You  cannot 
expect  such  a  question  to  be  answered  until  they  see,  or  have 
some  means  of  knowing,  what  the  merits  of  the  novel  are.  I 
feel  quite  safe  in  assuring  you  that  if  you  will  write  a  good  one,  I 
can  get  you  a  good  price  for  it. 

I  am  glad  you  agree  with  me  in  distaste  for  the  didactic  class  of 
works  of  the  kind.  I  used  to  like  them,  but  now  that  I  have  grown 
older  and  know  more  of  the  world,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  a  great 
mistake  of  their  well-meaning  authors  to  attempt  to  deceive  man- 
kind into  virtue,  which  I  have  no  doubt,  if  it  has  any  effect,  is 
only  calculated  to  deceive  them  into  hypocrisy.  Truth  never  did, 
and  never  can  do  harm  ;  and  I  feel  quite  sure  that  the  really 
moral  writers  are  those  who  describe  characters  as  they  are,  and 
not  as  the  authors  think  they  ought  to  be,  or  ought  not  to  be.  I 
have  lately  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  at  Lord  Holland's,  painting 
portraits  of  himself,  Miss  Fox  and  Lady  Affleck  (Lady  Hol- 
land's mother).  The  present  Lord  Holland  is  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  and  amiable  men  I  ever  met  with.  He  is  much 
better  acquainted  with  and  more  interested  in  American  affairs 
than  any  Englishman  I  have  seen  who  has  not  been  in  America. 
Lady  Affleck,  who  is  eighty  years  of  age,  was  born  in  New  York, 
and  lived  there  until  after  her  first  marriage.  The  old  lady  is  a 
staunch  American,  and  talked  to  me  of  nothing  but  America 
while  she  was  sitting.  Lady  Holland  begged  I  would  introduce 
a  map  of  New  York  somewhere  in  the  background  of  her  mother's 
portrait,  which  I  have  done.  Lord  Holland  has  dinner  parties 
every  day,  and  they  generally  consist  of  the  most  intelligent  people 
he  can  collect.  Rogers  is  a  very  frequent  visitor  there,  and  Moore 
and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  whenever  they  are  in  London.  Lord 


1829.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


285 


Byron  used  to  be  much  there,  and  Monk  Lewis,  whose  portrait 
hangs  in  one  of  the  rooms.  I  dined  a  short  time  since  with 
Murray,  the  publisher,  and  met  Moore,  who  in  the  evening  sang 
several  of  his  own  songs  in  so  delightful  a  manner,  that  I  never 
shall  wish  to  hear  the  same  songs  again  from  any  one  else. 
Washington  Irving  was  there,  and  James  Smith,  one  of  the 
authors  of  the  '  Rejected  Addresses.'  Smith  sang  several  excel- 
lent comic  songs  of  his  own.  Irving  is  in  excellent  health,  and 
looks  almost  as  young  and  quite  as  handsome  as  ever  he  did. 
He  is  much  pleased  with  Mr.  McLane  (the  Ambassador),  and 
seems  to  like  his  own  situation  of  Secretary  of  Legation  very 
well.  I  am  glad  of  his  having  it,  as  the  means  of  bringing  him 
here  ;  but  I  am  afraid  it  will  prevent  his  writing  for  some  time. 

I  will  very  soon  write  to  Polly ;  in  the  meantime  Harriet  joins 
me  in  love  to  you  all.  C.  R.  L. 

P.  S.  —  I  have  sent  to  Longman's  some  prints  of  Lady  Jane 
Grey  prevailed  on  to  accept  the  Crown,  which  I  hope  will  arrive 
safely. 

The  following  pleasant  letter  from  Peter  Powell  at  Rome,  con- 
tains a  good  deal  of  Art-gossip  about  the  principal  members  of 
their  old  set,  and  some  other  painters,  as  well  as  some  opinions  on 
the  subject  of  Peel's  new  Police  at  home  and  i  paternal  despot- 
ism '  abroad,  which  it  is  amusing  to  read  by  the  light  of  facts  of 
1860. 

No  68,  Via  Sistina,  Rome, 
30th  Nov.  1829. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  You  think,  no  doubt,  that  I  shall  not 
leave  this  Eternal  City  to  all  eternity ;  and  I  sometimes  myself 
think  that  there  is  a  spell  upon  me  to  prevent  my  getting  back 
again  to  old  England,  as  we  English  nickname  it,  seeing  that  in 
fact  it  is  one  of  the  most  modern  countries  (if  we  date  from  its 
civilisation)  in  Europe ;  and,  moreover,  the  little  that  it  had  to 
boast  of  as  derived  from  our  good  old  forefathers  seems  to  be 
rapidly  going  away,  and  it  may  perhaps  as  well  be  called  new 
England,  or  at  least,  new  London,  by  the  time  I  get  to  it  again. 


286 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1829. 


From  what  I  read  occasionally  in  the  newspapers,  all  the  Dog- 
berry s,  venerable  and  somniferous  in  Shakespeare's  time  and 
unchanged  up  to  ours,  are  now  I  see  to  be  sent  home  to  sleep  in 
their  own  beds,  instead  of  parish  watch-boxes ;  and  in  their  room, 
I  read,  there  is  to  be  established  an  active  and  virtuous  police, 
who  are  to  put  an  end  to  crimes  altogether  by  punishing  people 
before  they  have  committed  any. 

I  think  Mr.  Peel  will  have  his  hands  full,  as  well  as  the  prisons 
before  long,  and  I  wish  him  joy  of  his  undertaking.  I  have  quite 
changed  my  politics  since  I  left  home,  and  should  have  done  the 
same  with  my  religion  if  I  had  had  any.  I  am  living  here  under 
the  most  absolute  despotism  in  Europe,  and  I  see  the  people  who 
are  politically  slaves,  happier,  and  more  free  in  fact,  than  the 
people  in  England  with  all  their  noise  and  newspapers  and  cant 
about  liberty.  An  English  newspaper  verily  makes  me  sick.  I 
have  been  now  two  years  in  Rome,  and  there  has  been  but  one 
man  executed  in  that  time,  and  that  for  murder.  And  I  have 
been  to  all  the  theatres,  and  to  all  the  public  spectacles  in  the 
churches  and  streets,  where  all  the  nobility  of  Rome  are  collected, 
without  any  fear  of  being  either  insulted  or  robbed  —  not  even 
excepting  the  Theatre  of  Puppets  or  Fantoccini  here,  which  is  a 
most  diverting  and  witty  entertainment,  and  where  the  admission 
to  the  pit  is  only  twopence. 

The  bread  is  always  excellent,  and  is  a  penny  a  pound.  I  can 
dine  at  the  first  Trattorias  in  Rome,  including  wine,  for  three 
pauls  or  fifteen  pence;*  and  I  have  a  studio  twenty-one  feet 
square  and  sixteen  feet  high,  with  a  bed-room  furnished,  in  one 
of  the  best  parts  of  Rome,  for  eight  dollars  a  month. 

Here  are  eight  months  out  of  the  twelve  perpetual  sunshine, 
and  an  earthquake  every  now  and  then  gratis  ;  a  thing  that  is  not 
to  be  had  in  England  for  love  or  money. 

Then  I  have  said  nothing  about  the  beauties  of  the  landscapes, 
the  magnificence  of  the  buildings,  the  splendid  ruins  of  antiquity 
and  works  of  art  of  all  ages  to  be  met  with  in  Italy,  the  beauty 
of  the  people,  and  the  picturesque  costume  of  the  different  coun- 
tries.   In  short,  it  is  altogether  a  delicious  country,  and  if  it  were 

*  Yet  Rome  is  now  cited  as  the  dearest  of  continental  capitals,  except 
Paris.  —  Ed. 


1829.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


287 


not  for  a  good  old  mother,  two  or  three  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
three  or  four  dear  good  fellows  like  yourself,  for  whom  I  have  an 
unaccountable  prejudice,  I  believe  I  should  never  take  the  trouble 
to  visit  old  England  again. 

These  will,  however,  draw  me  from  this  happy  region  in  the 
ensuing  spring ;  and,  making  allowance  for  seeing  a  part  of  Ger- 
many in  my  route,  I  hope  to  shake  you  by  the  hand,  with  all  my 
heart  in  it,  about  the  end  of  June. 

I  thank  you  very  heartily  for  your  last  kind  letter,  which  lay, 
however,  a  considerable  time  at  Naples  while  I  was  gone  to  Sicily. 
Your  sister's  epistle  was  also  very  gratifying  to  me,  as  giving  me 
good  accounts  of  our  good  friends  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic, 
where  I  should  like  to  take  a  peep  at  them,  and  perhaps  may  do 
some  future  clay.  It  is  but  a  month's  sail  in  the  right  season. 
What  say  you  to  a  trip  together  ?    Newton,  too,  should  join  us. 

I  see  by  the  papers  that  Washington  Irving  is  arrived  in  Lon- 
don, and  also  in  an  official  capacity  as  Secretary  to  the  Embassy. 
Remember  me  kindly  to  him. 

I  want  to  read  his  history  of  Columbus,  as  well  as  to  see  your 
and  Newton's  pictures,  which  have  been  painted  since  my  absence. 
I  hope  Newton  has  found  some  other  equally  qualified  and  candid 
friend  to  look  after  his  perspective  !  I 

I  was  amazingly  gratified  to  hear  of  Constable's  election,  and 
now  I  look  forward  to  Newton's  being  made  a  full  R.  A. 

Eastlake  is  just  finishing  a  very  beautiful  picture,  which  will  be 
sent  to  grace  the  next  Exhibition. 

Allan  from  Edinburgh,  I  hear,  is  in  Italy,  but  has  not  yet 
reached  Rome.  We  are  all  sorry  that  Turner  has  not  been  able 
to  come  out  this  year  as  he  intended.  He  made  himself  very 
social,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  himself,  too,  amongst  us. 

And  now  it  is  time  to  say  a  few  words  about  the  good  lady 
and  family  at  home,  all  of  whom  I  hope  are  well. 

You  gratify  me  very  much  by  assuring  me  in  your  letter  that 
on  my  return  I  shall  receive  the  same  kind  welcome  from  you 
both,  that  I  was  accustomed  to  meet  with  before  I  became  such 
an  absentee ;  and  the  same  assurance  I  please  myself  with  in 
regard  to  our  valued  friends  the  Dunlops. 

Since  writing  the  foregoing,  Mr.  Allan  is  arrived  here,  and 


288 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1830. 


tells  me  that  he  saw  Newton  at  Paris,  and  that  he  did  not  seem 
to  be  in  very  good  health  ;  I  hope,  however,  that  his  trip  did  him 
good,  and  that  he  returned  home  in  good  health  at  any  rate. 

I  have  seen  the  Annual,  with  your  Duke  and  Duchess  reading 
Don  Quixote,  which  I  like  very  much,  though  I  have  no  doubt 
all  the  good  works  suffer  a  great  deal  by  being  done  in  such  a 
pigmy  size. 

I  think  these  Annuals,  though  they  pay  the  artist  well,  perhaps, 
will  tend  to  deteriorate  the  art,  and  spoil  all  the  engravers  for 
larger  and  better  things :  indeed  the  chances  are  that  they  will  all 
become  prematurely  blind. 

So  Newton  says  he  will  not  write  to  me  because  it  is  clear  I  do 
not  care  for  my  old  friends  in  London,  or  I  should  not  stay  so 
long  away  from  them  ;  nevertheless,  as  I  said  before,  but  for  my 
old  friends,  I  do  not  think  I  should  return  to  England  again. 
There  are  plenty  of  artists  here,  and  several  with  whom  I  am 
intimate  enough,  but  there  are  none  that  I  revel  with  so  much  in 
talking  of  art,  as  with  you  and  Newton. 

I  wish  I  could  contribute  my  share  of  performance  as  well  as 
talk,  and  then  we  should  be  an  invisible  trio. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Benedict.    Kind  regards  to  all  friends, 

From  yours  ever, 

P.  Powell. 

P.  S.  —  Tell  Newton  that  I  hope  he  will  have  the  magnanimity 
to  forego  his  resolve,  and  to  write  to  me  notwithstanding  my  de- 
merits, which  I  am  ready  to  confess  do  not  entitle  me  to  a  letter 
from  any  of  you. 

1830. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Portrait  op  Dr.  Sims.    (Engraved  —  Private  Print.)  —  Portraits  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  King  and  Lady  Burrell.  (Painted  for  Lord  Egremont.) 

Leslie  was  at  work  in  the  course  of  this  year  upon  the  '  Din- 
ner at  Page's  House,'  exhibited  the  next  year,  and  a  repetition  of 


1830.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


289 


which  is  now  in  the  Sheepshanks'  collection.  He  had  begun  the 
picture  in  the  autumn  of  1829.  He  was  also  employed  on 
'Uncle  Toby  and  the  Widow  Wadman.' 

The  painter's  second  sister,  Anne,  who  had  spent  some  time 
with  him  in  this  country  before  his  marriage,  was  now  again  with 
him  in  England.  His  elder  sister  had  taken  up  the  craft  of 
authorship,  and  her  brother  was  unwearied  in  his  efforts  to  find  a 
market  for  her  earliest  attempts,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  follow- 
ing letter.  I  may  add,  that  Miss  Leslie  subsequently  had  consid- 
erable success  as  a  writer  of  tales  and  verses,  as  editress  of 
American  annuals,  and  last,  not  least,  as  authoress  of  a  cookery 
book,  dealing  especially  with  the  dressing  of  Indian-corn  meal, 
and  found,  I  believe,  very  useful  during  the  Irish  famine. 

London,  May  20th,  1830. 
Dear  Eliza,  —  You  have  heard  from  Anne  how  little  we 
have  been  able  to  do  with  your  manuscripts.  On  their  arrival, 
I  lost  no  time  in  offering  the  tale  of  '  Alphonsine '  to  Murray, 
proposing  to  make  a  design  for  a  plate  for  it  gratuitously,  think- 
ing it  might  be  an  additional  inducement  for  him  to  take  it,  as  he 
had  not  long  since  applied  to  me  to  illustrate  a  work  I  was  then 
unable  to  do  in  consequence  of  other  engagements.  He  sent  me 
a  very  civil  note,  declining  it  on  the  score  of  its  being  a  transla- 
tion. The  other  stories  I  knew  were  too  juvenile  for  him.  I 
then  offered  *  Alphonsine  '  to  two  of  the  annuals,  the  '  Gem  '  and 
the  '  Amulet,'  with  the  same  proposal  of  making  a  gratuitous 
design.  The  first  declined  it  on  account  of  its  length,  and  the 
other  as  being  a  translation.  After  that,  I  offered  both  it  and  the 
tales  to  Harris  (of  St.  Paul's  Churchyard),  and  to  Hurst  and 
Chance,  still  proposing  to  make  designs  for  them  for  nothing,  but 
with  no  better  success.  Hurst  and  Chance  indeed  offered  to  print 
them  at  your  expense,  and  divide  the  profits  by  quarterly  settle- 
ments. Anne  has  since  attempted  to  do  something  with  them,  of 
which  she  has  of  course  informed  you,  and  I  hope  the  arrange- 
ments she  is  making  with  Mrs.  Hall  may  turn  out  to  your  satis- 
faction. I  like  all  your  tales  very  much ;  still  I  confess  I  should 
like  them  better  if  they  had  not  so  much  of  the  didactic  cant 
that  is  the  fashion  now.    I  am  of  opinion  that  the  most  instruc- 

19 


290 


EXTKACTS  FROM 


[1830. 


tive  of  all  writings  are  those  that  lay  open  to  our  view  human 
nature  as  it  really  is.  But  this  is  too  hard  a  task  for  the  writers 
of  children's  books,  who  find  it  much  easier  to  sit  down  and  make 
a  nature  of  their  own,  in  which  little  monsters  of  virtue,  sense, 
and  fine  sentiments,  are  contrasted  with  caricatures  of  folly.  I 
think  your  characters  are  more  drawn  from  nature  than  the  gen- 
erality of  them  are,  but  still  I  think  you  would  be  more  really 
instructive  if  it  was  not  for  your  determination  to  instruct.  Why 
might  not  children's  books  be  written  with  as  much  discrimination 
of  real  character,  as  the  novels  of  Le  Sage,  Fielding,  Smollett, 
and  the  best  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  ?  I  anticipate  your  answer ; 
they  would  not  sell.  Then  suppose  you  try  a  short  novel,  and 
take  the  best  models,  and  nature,  for  your  guide.  Do  not  think 
of  making  your  characters  consistently  bad,  or  consistently  good, 
but  draw  men  and  women  as  they  really  appear  to  you.  Do  not 
let  all  the  events  of  a  man's  or  a  woman's  life  turn  on  one  point 
of  their  character,  as  Miss  Edgeworth  does,  for  the  sake  of  sup- 
porting a  theory,  but  divest  yourself  of  every  other  intention 
than  that  of  giving  true  pictures  of  nature.  I  would  read  none 
of  the  trash  that  is  now  published  in  the  rage  for  universal  im- 
provement, but  study,  over  and  over  again,  the  sterling  authors  of 
fiction,  whose  works  will  last  as  long  as  their  language,  because 
they  are  built  on  the  rock  —  nature. 

I  find  in  painting  it  is  necessary  to  shut  my  eyes  to  most  that  is 
doing  now,  and  to  look  only  at  nature  and  the  best  of  the  old  mas- 
ters. The  most  original  landscape  painter  I  know  *  says,  that 
when  he  sits  down  in  the  fields  to  make  a  sketch,  he  endeavours 
to  forget  that  he  has  ever  seen  a  picture.  And  I  should  think  an 
author  would  do  well  when  he  sits  down  to  write  a  book,  to  for- 
get, if  possible,  that  he  had  ever  read  one.  If  Scott  could  have 
done  so,  how  much  that  is  bad  in  his  writings  would  have  been 
spared  the  world !  I  have  left  but  little  room  for  news.  The 
truth  is,  I  have  little  to  tell.    We  are  all  well. 

I  was  unable  to  complete  my  picture  of  FalstafF  for  the  Exhi- 
bition, but  it  is  now  within  a  few  days  of  being  finished.  I  shall 
soon  begin  another  I  hope,  of  equal  size,  for  Lord  Grosvenor ; 
but  the  subject  is  not  determined  upon.  In  one  of  your  letters 
*  Constable.  —  Ed. 


1831.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


291 


you  say  Sully  wishes  to  know  whether  the  fancy  dresses  I  paint 
are  really  worn  by  the  ladies.  No,  I  make  them  up  from  old 
prints  and  -pictures,  and  change  and  alter  the  forms  till  I  think 
they  look  well.  This,  however,  is  against  my  own  theory  of  copy- 
ing nature,  and  I  think  it  a  bad  plan.  In  future  I  shall  paint  the 
dresses  ladies  wear,  for  I  am  sure  nothing  can  be  more  splendid. 
Unbounded  extravagance  seems  the  order  of  the  day  here  with 
the  ladies,  and  Anne  says  it  is  the  same  now  in  America. 

London,  July  2nd,  1830. 

Your  story  of  the  '  Travelling  Tinman '  is  printed,  and  the 
proof  sheets  have  been  sent  to  me  to  correct.  I  have  also  made 
a  design  from  it,  which  is  now,  I  suppose,  in  the  engraver's  hands. 
I  chose  the  subject  you  suggested,  of  the  two  girls  discovering  the 
black  child  in  the  cart. 

Anne,  I  have  no  doubt,  has  given  Patty  all  the  news  of  the 
family,  which  is  not  much.  We  are  all  well,  and  going  on  as 
usual. 

I  have  finished  my  picture  of  *  Falstaff '  and  sent  it  home,  and 
as  soon  as  I  have  completed  the  one*  I  have  in  hand  from 
'  Tristram  Shandy,'  I  hope  to  set  about  another  large  picture. 

1831. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

The  Dinner  at  Mrs.  Page's  House,  Supposed  to  Take  Place  in  the 

First  Act  of  '  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.' 
A  Scene  fuom  Tristram  Shandy.    (Uncle  Toby  and  the  Widow 

Wadman.) 

"'  I  protest,  Madam,'  said  my  Uncle  Toby,  'I  can  see  nothing  whatever 
in  your  eye'  'It  is  not  in  the  white,'  said  Mrs.  Wadman.  My  uncle 
looked  with  might  and  main  into  the  pupil."  (Painted  for  John  Sheep- 
shanks, Esq.;  afterwards  repeated  for  Mr.  Vernon,  afterwards  for  Mr. 
Jacob  Bell.  All  three  are  now  in  the  National  Collection  at  South  Ken- 
sington. ) 

A  Scene  from  'The  Taming  of  the  Shrew.'  (Painted  for  the  Earl  of 
Egremont,  and  engraved:  afterwards  repeated  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq., 
and  now  in  the  National  Collection.  Another  small  repetition  was  painted 
for  Joseph  Birt,  Esq.) 

*  Uncle  Toby  and  the  Widow  Wadman. 


292 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1831. 


Petruchio.  —  "  Brav'd  in  mine  own  house  with  a  skein  of  thread ! 

Away,  thou  rag,  thou  quantity,  thou  remnant; 
Or  I  shall  so  be-mete  thee  with  thy  yard, 
As  thou  shalt  think  on  prating  whilst  thou  liv'st ! 
I  tell  thee,  I,  that  thou  hast  marr'd  her  gown." 
Tailor.  —  "  Your  worship  is  deceived ;  the  gown  is  made 
Just  as  my  master  had  direction : 
Grumio  gave  order  how  it  should  be  made." 
Grumio.  —  "I  gave  him  no  order;  I  gave  him  the  stuff." 

Act  iv.    Scene  3. 

On  the  18th  of  August  was  born  Leslie's  second  son,  Brad- 
ford, named  after  his  early  friend  and  first  master,  Mr.  Bradford 
of  Philadelphia.  Bradford  showed  a  bent  for  civil  engineering ; 
became  a  pupil  of  Mr.  Brunei ;  and  is  now  employed  on  railway 
work  in  the  East  Indies. 

I  have  no  correspondence  for  this  year  but  the  following  letter 
from  Irving,  containing  some  excellent  suggestions  for  the  well- 
known  picture  from  the  '  Taming  of  the  Shrew,'  exhibited  this  year. 


FROM  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

London,  Feb.  23,  1831. 
As  I  understand  you  intend  to  finish  your  picture  of  Petruchio 
while  at  Petworth,  I  will  give  you  a  hint  or  two,  which  I  had  in- 
tended to  give  on  your  return  to  town.  I  think  the  picture  one 
of  the  best  hits  of  the  kind  that  you  have  ever  made  ;  it  is  worth 
while,  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  to  make  it  a  complete  one.  The 
figures  of  Grumio  and  the  Haberdasher  are  deficient  in  character, 
and  make  that  part  of  the  picture  weak  as  to  expression,  and  yet 
they  may  easily  be  made  to  tell  admirably  on  the  story,  and  to 
heighten  the  comic  character  of  the  whole.  The  Haberdasher 
might  be  represented  making  a  cautious  attempt  to  get  hold  of  the 
cap,  with  his  eye  glancing  up  at  Petruchio,  as  if  confoundly  afraid 
of  getting  a  sudden  thwack  on  the  poll.  This  would  also  tell 
upon  the  character  of  Petruchio,  showing  how  his  domineering 
spirit  prevailed  over  the  whole  dramatis  personse.  I  would  make 
Grumio  of  a  spare  form,  with  a  roguish  air.  His  contest  with 
the  tailor  should  have  a  more  whimsical  expression.    The  tailor 


1833.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


293 


himself,  though  admirably  painted,  has  not,  in  my  opinion,  enough 
of  the  comic.  I  find  it  difficult,  however,  to  convey  my  notions 
on  paper  —  especially  in  the  hurry  in  which  I  am  at  present. 
If  I  could  have  ten  minutes'  chat  with  you,  I  think  I  could 
act  the  expression  I  have  in  my  mind.  These  hints,  however 
will  serve  to  set  you  thinking.  I  want  to  see  this  picture  a 
deservedly  strong  one  in  all  its  parts ;  you  will  then  take  the 
field  this  spring  in  uncommon  force. 

1833. 

Pictures  Exhibited  this  Year. 

Tristram  Shandy  Recovering  the  Manuscript  he  had  Lost.  (En- 
graved by  Watt:  in  the  possession  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.  Preston;  after- 
wards repeated  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq.) 

"I  had  not  waited  half  an  hour  when  the  mistress  came  in  to  take  the 
papillotes  from  off  her  hair,  before  going  to  the  Maypoles.  *  *  *  The 
toilet  stands  still  for  no  man,  so  she  jerked  off  her  cap  to  begin  with  them 
as  she  opened  the  door,  in  doing  which,  one  of  them  fell  to  the  ground.  I 
instantly  saw  it  was  my  own  writing.  4  0  Seigneur! '  cried  I,  'you  have 
got  all  my  remarks  on  your  head,  madam  Tenez,'  said 

she.  So  without  any  idea  of  the  nature  of  my  suffering,  she  took  them 
from  her  curls,  and  put  them  gravely,  one  by  one,  into  my  hat,"  &c. 

Vol.  vii.  Chap.  38. 

Mother  Dancing  to  her  Child. 

Martha  and  Mary.  (Painted  for  James  Dunlop,  Esq.:  three  times  repeated.) 
"  A  certain  woman,  named  Martha,  received  him  into  her  house.  And 
she  had  a  sister  called  Mary,  which  also  sat  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  heard  his 
word.  But  Martha  was  cumbered  about  much  serving,  and  came  to  him, 
and  said,  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that  my  sister  hath  left  me  to  serve 
alone?  Bid  her,  therefore,  that  she  help  me.  And  Jesus  answered  and 
said  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many 
things:  but  one  thing  is  needful:  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part 
which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her."  —  St.  Luke,  chap.  x.  ver.  38-42. 

On  the  18th  of  July  was  born  the  painter's  third  daughter  and 
fifth  child  —  Mary.  This  lady  possesses  very  remarkable  artistic 
powers.  Unhappily  weak  eyesight  has  prevented  her  from  de- 
voting herself  to  the  serious  pursuit  of  painting  as  a  profession, 
but  her  copies,  sketches,  and  occasional  original  compositions 
show  a  rare  reach  of  invention  and  the  very  highest  qualities 
both  as  a  colourist  and  a  designer.    In  September  Leslie,  to  the 


294 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1833. 


great  regret  of  his  many  English  friends,  left  England  for  the 
United  States  with  a  view  of  entering  upon  the  duties  of  teacher 
of  drawing  at  the  United  States  Military  School  of  West  Point. 
He  has  fully  detailed  in  his  Autobiography  the  expectations  with 
which  he  took  this  step,  his  disappointment,  and  speedy  return  to 
England.  Irving  was  among  the  friends  who,  though  he  for- 
mally disclaims  any  direct  recommendation,  in  effect  recom- 
mended the  step  in  the  following  letter. 

Washington,  Jan.  29th,  1833. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  Your  brother  has  applied  to  me  through 
a  friend  to  use  my  influence  in  persuading  you  to  accept  the  ap- 
pointment to  the  professorship  of  drawing  at  West  Point.  I  am 
unwilling,  however,  to  give  advice  in  any  matter  that  is  to  change 
a  person's  whole  plan  of  life.  The  advantages  of  the  post  have 
no  doubt  been  sufficiently  detailed  to  you.  The  situation  is  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world,  and  extremely  healthy.  The 
pay  and  quarters  would  enable  you  to  live  in  a  handsome  style. 
The  place  being  the  national  military  school,  assembles  men  of 
talents  of  all  kinds.  The  duties  of  your  professorship  would  not 
take  up  more  than  two  hours  a  day,  leaving  you  the  rest  for  the 
prosecution  of  your  art.  You  would  be  in  the  best  of  situations 
for  the  education  of  your  children.  You  would  be  in  the  imme- 
diate neighbourhood  of  my  friend  Governor  Kemble,  and  of  the 
place  where  I  hope  to  pass  the  greater  part  of  my  time  ;  and  you 
are  within  four  hours'  sail  of  New  York,  and  steamboats  pass 
several  times  in  the  course  of  the  day.  These  are  some  of  the 
advantages  which  immediately  occur  ;  your  brother  can  doubtless 
enumerate  others.  You  yourself  will  be  able  to  furnish  the 
counter  arguments. 

The  improvements  in  living,  and  the  resources  for  living  agreea- 
bly in  the  United  States,  have  multiplied  wonderfully  since  I  went 
abroad.  I  have  enjoyed  myself  delightfully  since  my  return,  and 
am  satisfied  that  I  can  live  as  pleasantly  here  as  in  any  part  of 
the  world. 

Your  appointment  is  a  mark  of  great  respect  on  the  part  of  the 
Government,  strong  interest  having  been  made  to  procure  the 
situation  for  various  artists  resident  in  the  country. 


1834.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


295 


I  can  only  say  that  it  would  rejoice  my  heart  to  see  you  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic  ;  but  I  will  not  take  upon  myself  the 
responsibility  of  advising  you  to  come. 

I  would  have  given  anything  to  have  had  you  with  me  on  a 
tour  I  took  last  summer  and  autumn,  first  to  the  White  Mountains 
of  New  Hampshire,  and  then  to  the  far  West,  several  hundred 
miles  west  of  the  Mississippi,  and  almost  to  the  Mexican  bounda- 
ries. I  was  for  two  months  leading  a  hunter's  life,  camping  out, 
sleeping  in  the  open  air,  and  depending  upon  the  chase  for  pro- 
visions. Saw  various  tribes  of  Indians  ;  hunted  the  buffalo,  &c, 
&c,  &c.  Should  you  come  to  the  United  States  it  will  be  very 
easy  to  get  an  opportunity  to  visit  the  frontier  free  of  expense, 
by  accompanying  some  public  expedition,  and  you  will  witness 
scenes  well  worthy  of  your  pencil.  I  was  part  of  the  time  with 
a  troop  of  ninety  mounted  rangers,  clad  in  the  ordinary  but  varied 
garments  of  the  frontiers,  and  our  encampments  reminded  me 
completely  of  the  descriptions  of  Robin  Hood  and  his  followers. 

Do  scrawl  me  a  line.    Let  me  know  how  Childe  Newton  acts 
the  Benedict,  and  how  his  charming  little  wife  likes  England. 
Give  my  kind  remembrances  to  your  wife,  and  believe  me  ever, 
Your  affectionate  friend, 

Washington  Irving. 

His  old  master  Mr.  Bradford,  his  brother,  and  many  other 
zealous  friends  did  their  utmost  to  procure  for  him  the  realisation 
of  the  hopes  and  inducement  which  led  him  to  leave  England,  but 
in  vain.  Congress  seems  to  have  had  no  special  appreciation  of 
the  painter,  and  no  particular  wish  to  do  anything  that  should 
attach  him  to  his  native  country.  Early  in  the  following  year 
he  left  West  Point  and  the  United  States,  never  to  return. 

1834. 

No  picture  by  Leslie  was  exhibited  this  year,  but  he  painted 
about  this  time,  and  after  his  return  to  this  country  in  May,  a 
portrait  of  Lady  Lilford,  for  her  father,  Lord  Holland. 

Leslie,  as  usual,  spent  part  of  this  summer  and  autumn  at  Pet- 


296 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1834. 


worth.  He  writes  thence  to  Constable.  The  letter  is  worth 
notice  for  its  ample  acknowledgment  of  the  obligations  under 
which  Leslie  felt  himself  to  Constable  in  his  art.  Many  will  be 
of  opinion,  probably,  that  whatever  might  have  been  the  advan- 
tage to  Leslie  of  Constable's  genuine  love  of  out-door  nature,  and 
his  keen  and  life-long  observation  of  atmospheric  effects,  the 
advantage  was  counterbalanced  by  some  decided  drawbacks,  not 
the  least  of  them  an  abuse  of  pure  white,  in  the  attempt  to  render 
the  sparkle  and  brilliance  of  sunlight.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that 
the  spotty  and  splashed  look  which  this  use  of  pure  white  gave  to 
most  of  Constable's  pictures,  and  the  raw,  cold,  and  opaque  char- 
acter imparted  by  the  employment  of  the  same  pigment  in  lights 
without  over  glazing,  are  likely  to  diminish,  and  have  diminished, 
with  time.  But  it  seems  to  me  indisputable,  that  the  substitution 
of  Constable's  for  Newton's  influence  and  example  upon  Leslie  as 
a  colourist,  was  altogether  unfavourable  to  his  brilliancy  and  trans- 
parency, if  of  benefit  to  the  permanence  of  his  work.  A  compari- 
son of  the  i  Catherine  and  Petruchio '  with  the  '  Who  can  this 
be  ? '  and  '  Who  can  this  be  from  ? '  in  the  Sheepshanks'  col- 
lection, will  illustrate  my  meaning. 

There  is  an  openness  and  fulness  in  Leslie's  acknowledgments 
very  characteristic  of  the  man. 

TO  JOHN  CONSTABLE,  R.A. 

Petworth,  Sept.  bih,  1834. 
My  Dear  Constable,  —  I  hope  you  will  not  put  off  coming 
later  than  Wednesday  or  Thursday  next,  as,  soon  after  that,  we 
must  think  of  returning  to  London,  and  I  do  think  you  will  really 
enjoy  the  visit. 

The  Gainsborough  which  you  so  truly  feel  is  still  on  the 
ground,  and  there  is  a  very  fine  Wilson  which  perhaps  you  did 
not  see.  There  is  a  gem  of  a  Bassan  also,  which  came  from 
London  since  you  were  here,  and  which  Lord  Egremont  allows 
me  to  have  in  my  room.  I  am  afraid  you  did  not  quite  under- 
stand what  I  meant  by  your  keen  eye.  I  am  only  afraid  of  it 
because  I  know  no  fault  can  escape  it.  Do  not  for  a  moment 
imagine  I  am  insensible  of  my  obligations  to  it.    You  not  only 


1834.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


297 


did  me  the  greatest  service  in  inducing  me  to  enlarge  my 
1  Sancho,'  but  you  entirely  composed  my  '  Sterne  and  the  French 
Woman  ; '  that  is,  you  composed  the  light  and  shadow  for  me.  I 
am  not  aware  that  I  have  painted  a  picture  since  I  have  known 
you  that  has  not  been  in  some  degree  the  better  for  your  remarks, 
and  I  constantly  feel  that  if  I  could  please  you  with  what  I  do,  I 
should  be  sure  to  please  myself.  But  enough  of  this ;  you  may 
think  I  want  compliments,  but  indeed  I  do  not. 

I  am  glad  on  every  account  you  are  likely  to  visit  Petworth 
just  now.  I  never  so  much  enjoyed  being  here,  and  Lord  Egre- 
mont  is  so  uncommonly  well.  Mr.  King,  his  son-in-law,  says  that 
since  he  has  known  him  he  does  not  remember  his  being  so  well. 
The  weather  is  delicious.  I  trust  it  will  continue  as  it  is  during 
your  visit. 

To-day  forty  people  dine  here,  most  of  them  magistrates,  and 
the  house  is  as  full  as  it  can  hold.    Among  them  is  the  Duke  of 
Richmond.    I  have  just  been  looking  at  the  table  as  it  is  set  out 
in  the  carved  room,  covered  with  magnificent  gold  and  silver  plate. 
Callcott  has  been  here,  and  went  to  day.  *  *  *  * 
Dear  Constable, 

Yours  ever, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

In  the  following  letter  to  Irving,  now  resettled  at  his  home  in 
New  York,  Leslie  gives  an  account  of  his  visit  to  their  poor 
friend,  Newton,  in  the  Lunatic  Asylum  at  Chelsea,  where  he  was 
now  confined :  — 

12,  Pine  Apple  Place,  Edgeware  Road, 
London,  Dec.  29,  1834. 

You  are  often  mentioned  by  others  in  their  letters,  but  I  wish 
much  to  hear  from  yourself,  how  you  are,  what  you  are  doing, 
and  when  there  is  any  chance  of  your  paying  another  visit  to 
England.  Mr.  Dunlop  has  sent  me  the  sheets  of  his  6  History 
of  American  Painters.'  I  think  if  it  can  be  made  known  by  a 
good  review  it  will  have  an  extensive  circulation.  There  are 
some  things  in  it  I  regret  to  see  ;  but  it  contains  a  great  deal 
which,  I  think,  will  interest  the  public,  and  would  interest  in  this 


298 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1834. 


country,  —  but  I  cannot  get  either  Murray,  Bentley,  or  Longman 
to  publish  it.  I  find  he  has  made  most  honourable  mention  of 
me,  and  that  you  have  helped  him  to  put  a  good  face  on  the 
matter.  I  read  your  account  of  poor  Newton  with  great  interest, 
and  a  revival  of  many  pleasant  recollections  of  the  days  of  yore ; 
but  I  am  sorry  for  some  things  Dunlop  has  inserted  of  him.  I 
think  some  allowance  ought  to  be  made  for  him  when  last  in 
America,  for  it  now  seems  to  be  the  general  opinion  of  his  friends 
that  his  malady  was  gaining  on  him  for  some  time  before  it  be- 
came confirmed.  I  see  him  frequently ;  he  always  knows  me 
and  often  talks  as  well  as  ever  he  did.  There  is  no  alteration  in 
his  appearance  or  manner,  except  that  the  latter  is  more  subdued 
and  quiet.  His  habits,  unlike  when  in  health,  are  perfectly 
regular  (but  this  is,  in  some  measure,  the  necessary  consequence 
of  his  confinement).  He  goes  to  bed  at  ten,  rises  at  eight  to  walk 
in  the  garden  before  the  other  patients  are  there,  for  he  avoids 
their  society.  He  is  not  confined  to  his  room,  and  has  every 
comfort  possible  in  his  situation.  He  has  made  more  than  twenty 
sketches  of  original  subjects,  all  of  them  good,  and  some  equal  to 
his  very  best  things.  They  are  from  Shakespeare.  I  believe  Dr. 
Sutherland  does  not  consider  his  case  as  quite  hopeless. 

I  spent  six  weeks  with  my  wife  and  children  at  Petworth  in 
the  summer.  The  weather  was  uncommonly  fine,  and  I  rambled 
more  about  the  neighbourhood  than  I  had  ever  done  before,  with 
Constable,  who  was  there  part  of  the  time.  Among  other  things, 
we  stumbled  on  a  melancholy  looking,  remote,  stern  farm-house, 
and  while  he  stopped  to  make  a  sketch  of  the  outside,  which  was 
very  picturesque,  I  went  in  to  draw  the  interior.  It  was  in  a  dilapi- 
dated condition,  and  the  woman  who  lives  there  told  me  it  was 
known  by  the  name  of  '  Wicked  Hammond's  house,'  from  one  of 
its  former  possessors,  but  beyond  the  time  of  her  recollection. 
There  were  traditions,  however,  in  the  neighbourhood,  that  this 
wicked  Hammond  was  a  very  bad  man,  who  lived  there  alone  ; 
and  it  was  also  reported  that  since  his  time  the  house  had  been 
haunted,  but  this  she  could  not  confirm  from  her  own  experience, 
as  neither  she  nor  her  husband  had  ever  seen  the  ghost ;  but 
that  about  four  months  ago,  in  cleaning  out  an  old  well,  some 
human  bones  had  been  found.    I  asked  her  if  she  was  sure  they 


1835.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


299 


were  not  the  bones  of  some  other  animal ;  but  she  said  the  sexton 
had  seen  them,  and  declared  that  one  of  them  was  '  the  arm  bone 
of  a  Christian?  I  am  very  busy  with  a  picture  of  '  Gulliver's 
Introduction  to  the  Queen  of  Brobdingnag,'  which  I  think  will  be 
my  best,  as  I  always  do  of  the  last.  Columbus  is  finished,  and  I 
hope  to  have  both  in  the  next  Exhibition. 

1835. 

Pictures  of0the  Year. 

Columbus  and  the  Egg.  (Painted  for  W.  Wells,  Esq.,  Redleaf;  afterwards 
purchased  by  Lord  Northwick,  and  sold  at  the  sale  of  the  Northwick  col- 
lection in  1859  for  1160  guineas;  now  in  the  possession  of  Joseph  Gillott, 
Esq.,  Birmingham.) 

"  Pedro  Gonzalez  de  Mendoza,  the  Grand  Cardinal  of  Spain,  invited 
Columbus  to  a  banquet,  where  he  assigned  him  the  most  honourable  place 
at  table.  *  *  *  A  shallow  courtier  present,  impatient  of  the  honours 
paid  to  Columbus,  and  meanly  jealous  of  him  as  a  foreigner,  abruptly 
asked  him  whether  he  thought  that  in  case  he  had  not  discovered  the 
Indies,  there  were  not  other  men  who  would  have  been  capable  of  the  en- 
terprise. To  this  Columbus  made  no  immediate  reply,  but  taking  an  egg, 
invited  the  company  to  make  it  stand  upon  one  end.  Everyone  attempted 
it,  but  in  vain ;  whereupon  he  struck  it  upon  the  table  so  as  to  break  the 
end,  and  left  it  standing  upon  the  broken  part;  illustrating,  in  this  simple 
manner,  that  when  he  had  once  shown  the  way  to  the  New  World,  nothing 
was  easier  than  to  follow  it."  —  Irving,s  Life  of  Columbus.  Book  v.  Chap.  7. 

Gulliver's  Introduction  to  the  Queen  of  Brobdingnag.  (Painted  for 
Lord  Egremont.) 

"  Her  Majesty,  and  those  who  attended  her.  were  beyond  measure  de- 
lighted with  my  demeanour.  I  fell  on  my  knees,  and  begged  the  honour 
of  kissing  her  imperial  foot;  but  this  gracious  princess  held  out  her  little 
finger  towards  me  (after  I  was  set  on  a  table),  which  I  embraced  in  both 
my  arms,  and  put  the  tip  of  it  with  the  utmost  respect  to  my  lips.  *  *  * 
She  then  asked  my  master  whether  he  were  willing  to  sell  me  at  a  good 
price.  He,  who  apprehended  I  could  not  live  a  month,  was  ready  enough 
to  part  with  me,  and  demanded  a  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  which  were 
ordered  him  on  the  spot."  —  Voyage  to  Brobdingnag,  Chap.  3. 
About  this  time,  too,  Leslie  painted  a  family  group  for  Lord  Westminster, 
which  was  not  exhibited. 

On  the  2nd  of  July,  was  born  the  painter's  third  son,  George 
Dunlop,  —  now  following  his  father's  profession. 


I  find  the  following  letters  of  this  year  from  and  to  Irving :  — 


300 


EXTRACTS  FEOM 


[1835. 


New  York,  March  8,  1835. 

My  Dear  Leslie,  —  I  have  been  exceedingly  gratified  by 
the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  you,  and  to  learn  that  you  are  going 
to  be  so  strong  in  the  Exhibition  this  year.  I  regret  continually 
that  I  did  not  see  your  Columbus  before  you  sailed.  As  to  your 
Gulliver,  I  do  not  see  how  you  will  make  the  spectators  know  that 
the  giants  are  not  people  of  the  common  size,  and  Gulliver  a 
pigmy.*  The  story,  luckily,  is  generally  known,  and  most  of 
the  spectators  will,  in  that  way,  understand  the  subject. 

Your  account  of  poor  Newton's  situation  is  rather  less  gloomy 
than  I  had  apprehended.  It  is  a  great  source  of  enjoyment  to  him 
and  comfort  to  his  friends,  that  he  is  enabled  to  occupy  himself 
with  his  pencil.  In  this  way  the  better  part  of  him,  his  genius, 
will  not  be  lost  to  the  world. 

Give  my  kind  remembrance  to  Mrs.  Leslie.  I  write  in  ex- 
treme haste.  ******* 

London,  May  11$,  1835. 
My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  received  your  letter  a  short  time  ago, 
and  hope,  now  that  our  correspondence  is  revived,  we  shall  keep 
it  up  until  we  meet  again,  —  an  event  I  confidently  look  forward 
to.  You  must  have  heard,  very  soon  after  you  wrote,  of  the  pub- 
lication of  your  '  Tour  on  the  Prairies.'  Mr.  Rogers,  whose  op- 
portunities of  knowing  are  the  best,  says  it  is  very  popular  with 
such  people  as  you  would  like  it  to  be  popular  with  in  this  coun- 
try. Murray  sent  Mrs.  Leslie  a  copy,  and  we  have  read  it  with 
very  great  pleasure.  I  am  particularly  pleased  with  the  account 
you  give  of  the  Indians,  and  am  glad  you  have  stripped  off  that 
theatrical  and  unnatural  character  which  the  poets  and  romance 
writers  had  given  them,  and  have  shown  (what  I  always  sus- 
pected) that  they  are  essentially  much  more  like  other  people 
than  we  have  been  led  to  think.  I  am  also  delighted  at  your  ac- 
count of  those  very  respectable  little  dogs  you  met  with.  How 
I  should  have  enjoyed  lounging  on  the  ground  with  you  the  day 
you  spent  in  watching  them.  As  to  your  buffalo  hunting,  &c,  I 
own  I  prefer  reading  about  it  to  having  been  present,  not  being  a 
*  This  is  precisely  the  defect  of  the  picture.  —  Ed. 


1835.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


301 


good  horseman,  and  entertaining  (as  Leigh  Hunt  expresses  it) 
"a  distant  respect  for  a  bull."  Murray  has  just  sent  us  your 
'  Abbotsford  and  Newstead  Abbey,'  and  we  are  reading  it  with 
great  pleasure.  I  have  seen  the  very  honourable  mention  you 
have  made  of  me  to  Dunlop,  as  it  appears  in  his  book,  and  can- 
not but  think  you  have  said  much  more  for  me  than  I  deserve ; 
at  any  rate  you  have  put  the  best  face  on  the  matter,  for  had  you 
described  me  as  I  know  you  know  me  to  be,  tffere  would  have 
been  something  to  put  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  account. 
Poor  Newton  has  not  fared  so  well ;  all  his  faults  have  been  ar- 
rayed against  him,  not  by  you  but  by  his  biographers.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  he  is  no  better  in  mind,  though  quite  well  in  body,  and  by 
no  means  unhappy,  which  is  the  most  comfortable  thing  his 
friends  can  now  know  of  him.  I  have  sent  my  '  Columbus,'  and 
'  Gulliver '  to  the  Exhibition.  Wilkie's  '  Columbus '  is  also  in 
the  Exhibition,  and  a  very  grand  picture  it  is,  one  of  his  finest. 
The  figures  are  nearly  as  large  as  life,  and  look  quite  so.  The 
boy  (Columbus's  son)  is  admirably  introduced,  and  makes  a  fine 
contrast  with  the  other  figures. 

12,  Pine  Apple  Place,  Edgeware  Road, 
July  8th,  1835. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  write,  in  great  haste,  to  ask  you  a 
question  I  am  desired  to  do  by  Charles  Heath,  who  has  just  called 
to  say  he  intends  publishing  an  American  landscape  annual,  con- 
sisting of  views  on  the  Hudson,  and  he  is  very  desirous  of  engag- 
ing you  to  furnish  the  letter-press  on  your  own  terms.  It  is  to 
be  on  the  plan  of  '  Turner's  Annual  Tour,'  edited  by  Leitch 
Ritchie.  I  have  written  to  Cole,  at  his  request,  to  furnish  the 
drawings.  If  you  choose  to  engage  in  it,  I  should  think  you  will 
not  find  it  very  troublesome,  as  you  may  throw  into  it  so  much 
historical  matter  relating  to  Revolutionary  scenes.  The  details 
of  Arnold's  treachery,  and  the  capture  and  death  of  Andre,  for 
instance.  Pray  let  me  have  your  answer  as  soon  as  possible. 
Should  you  decline  it,  perhaps  you  may  know  somebody  capable 
and  willing  to  engage  in  such  a  work.  I  have  read  your  'Abbots- 
ford  and  Newstead  Abbey'  with  great  interest.  Your  account 
of  Scott  brought  tears  to  my  eyes.    Nothing  can  be  more  beauti- 


302 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1836. 


ful,  nor  more  true  than  the  conclusion,  in  which  you  give  his 
character  as  a  man  and  as  a  writer.    We  are  all  quite  well. 

Mrs.  Leslie  presented  me  with  another  son  on  the  2nd,  and  is 
doing  extremely  well. 

P.  S.  —  Poor  Newton,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  no  better. 
1836. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(329)  Autolycus.    (Painted  for  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  Nation- 
al Collection.) 

"  Here's  another  ballad,  Of  a  fish,  that  appeared  upon  the  coast,  on 
Wednesday  the  fourscore  of  April,  forty  thousand  fathom  above  water, 
and  sung  this  ballad  about  the  hard  hearts  of  maids.'" 

Winter's  Tale,  Act.  iv.  Scene  3. 
An  Evening  Landscape  from  Mr.  Leslie's  Window.  —  A  Small  Picture 
ok  Amy  Robsart.    (Painted  for  Mr.  Sheepshanks,  and  engraved.    Now  in 
the  National  Collection.) 

The  following  letter  to  Miss  Anne  Leslie,  touches  on  a  point 
that  should  still  stir  the  susceptibilities  of  American  patriotism. 
I  am  not  aware  that  Mount  Vernon  has  yet  been  purchased  by 
the  nation,  in  honour  of  Washington,  or  that  Stuart's  full-length 
portrait  of  the  founder  and  consolidator  of  his  country's  indepen- 
dence yet  adorns  the  place  of  his  birth. 

• 

London,  Sept.  24,  1836. 

My  Dear  Anne,  —  You  will  excuse  a  hasty  letter  from  me 
just  now,  as  we  are  in  the  bustle  of  packing  up  for  a  visit  to  Pet- 
worth.  Lord  Egremont  was  in  town  a  few  weeks  ago  and  asked 
us  all  again,  and  we  set  off  early  to-morrow  morning. 

I  was  much  gratified  by  your  last  letter,  giving  me  an  account 
of  your  visit  to  Washington.  I  once  spent  a  fortnight  there  when 
I  was  with  Mr.  Bradford,  but  from  what  you  tell  me  it  must  be 
now  greatly  improved.  Your  account  of  the  present  state  of 
Mount  Vernon  is  very  melancholy.  It  ought  to  be  preserved, 
and  the  picture  of  Washington  by  Stuart,  which  belonged  to  Mr. 


1837.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


303 


Williams  —  the  finest  whole- length  of  him  in  existence  —  should 
be  there.  Mr.  McLane,  on  his  return  to  America,  proposed  to 
Congress  that  Stuart's  picture  should  be  purchased  for  the  nation, 
but  the  measure  was  thrown  out. 

If  Henry  Carey  and  a  few  other  public  spirited  Philadelphians 
would  unite,  and  raise  a  subscription  for  the  purchase  of  it  to 
adorn  the  Hall  of  Independence  in  Philadelphia,  they  would 
deserve  the  thanks  of  their  fellow-citizens  both  now  and  hereaf- 
ter. The  picture  belongs  to  Mr.  Lewis,  and  is  still  in  London, 
and  I  believe  might  be  had  for  seven  or  eight  hundred  guineas. 
It  is  the  common  remark  of  travellers  that  in  America  there  are 
no  antiquities,  —  no  objects  of  veneration  belonging  to  times  past. 
Americans  themselves  feel  this,  and  yet  they  make  little  effort  to 
preserve  or  secure  those  they  might.  To  a  stranger  visiting 
Philadelphia,  how  interesting  it  would  be  to  be  shown  the  houses 
of  Penn  and  Franklin.  I  was  glad  to  find  the  Hall  of  Independ- 
ence preserved,  and  if  it  could  be  filled  with  the  portraits  of  the 
most  distinguished  statesmen  and  soldiers  of  the  revolution,  and 
among  them  the  picture  I  have  mentioned  of  Washington,  Phila- 
delphia might  boast  of  a  monument  of  the  past  far  exceeding  in 
interest  anything  to  be  found  in  any  other  part  of  the  Union. 

You  ask  me  for  an  impression  of  the  '  May  Day,'  and  you 
shall  have  one  soon,  when  I  hope  to  have  something  else  to  send 
with  it,  Eliza  had  said  she  thought  an  engraving  from  some 
picture  of  mine  would  be  acceptable  to  aunt  Hayes,  and  I  there- 
fore sent  her  one  of  the  only  two  I  had  to  spare  at  that  time. 

1837. 

Pictures  of  the  year. 

(47)  Perdita.  (Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  National 
Collection.)  A  study  for  this  picture  is  in  the  possession  of  A.  J.  Heugh, 
Esq. 

 "  Here's  flowers  for  you; 

Hot  lavender,  mints,  savory,  marjoram ; 
The  marigold,  that  goes  to  bed  with  the  sun, 
And  with  him  rises  weeping:  these  are  flowers 
Of  middle  summer,  and,  I  think,  they  are  given 
To  men  of  middle  age :    You  are  very  welcome !  " 

Winter's  Tale,  Act  iv.  Scene  3. 


304 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1837. 


(66)  Chaeles  II.  and  the  Lady  Bellenden.    (Painted  for  the  Earl  of  Egre- 
mont.    A  small  repetition  of  the  picture  was  painted  in  1856.) 

"  Upon  his  route  through  the  West  of  Scotland  to  meet  Cromwell  in 
the  unfortunate  field  of  Worcester,  Charles  the  Second  had  actually- 
breakfasted  at  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem,  an  incident  which  formed, 
from  that  moment,  an  important  era  in  the  life  of  Lady  Margaret,  who 
seldom  afterwards  partook  of  that  meal,  either  at  home  or  abroad,  with- 
out detailing  the  whole  circumstances  of  the  Royal  visit;  not  forgetting 
the  salutation  which  his  Majesty  conferred  on  each  side  of  her  face, 
though  she  sometimes  omitted  to  notice  that  he  bestowed  the  same 
favour  on  two  buxom  serving-wenches  who  appeared  at  her  back,  ele- 
vated for  the  day  into  the  capacity  of  waiting  gentlewomen."  —  Old 
Mortality,  chap.  2. 

Leslie  had  this  year  to  deplore  the  loss  of  his  friend  Constable, 
for  whom  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  he  felt  more  affection 
as  a  man,  or  more  admiration  as  a  landscape-painter.  In  May, 
the  Royal  Academy  was  transferred  from  Somerset  House  to  Mr. 
Wilkins's  building  in  Trafalgar  Square.  The  following  letter 
to  Miss  Leslie  gives  an  account  of  the  opening  of  the  new  build- 
ing by  King  William  IV.,  one  of  the  King's  last  public  acts. 

TO  MISS  A.  LESLIE. 

London,  May  23,  1837. 

You  will,  I  dare  say,  like  to  have  some  account  of  the  opening 
of  the  Exhibition  in  the  new  building,  and  I  have  really  not  had 
time  till  now  to  sit  down  and  give  it  you. 

The  private  views  took  place  on  the  28th  April,  and  the  King 
had  sent  us  word  that  he  would  come  at  one  o'clock.  As  he  came 
all  the  way  from  Windsor  for  the  purpose,  he  could  not  be  at  the 
Academy  at  twelve  o'clock  as  usual.  It  was  therefore  arranged 
that  the  general  company  should  not  be  admitted  till  three.  The 
portico  of  the  new  building  commands  a  view  of  the  whole  length 
of  Pall  Mall  to  St.  James's,  and  as  it  is  elevated  considerably 
above  the  foot-way,  most  of  us  were  standing  there  a  little  before 
one,  looking  anxiously  towards  the  palace,  when  exactly  at  the 
appointed  hour  we  saw  the  Royal  carriages  appear  in  the  distance. 
A  guard  of  soldiers,  with  a  band  of  music,  were  stationed  in  front 
of  the  building,  and  behind  them  an  immense  crowd,  winch  ex- 


1837.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


305 


tended  on  the  left  to  St.  Martin's  Church,  the  steps  and  even  the 
roof  of  which  were  covered  with  people :  the  bells  pealing  a 
merry  chime  from  the  steeple.  The  scene  as  the  King's  carriage 
drew  up  was  altogether  very  imposing.  The  old  gentleman  looked 
out  of  spirits ;  he  has  recently  lost  his  favourite  daughter,  Lady 
de  Lisle,  and  was  in  deep  mourning,  and  the  Queen  was  prevent- 
ed from  coming  by  illness.  The  King  wore  neither  star  nor  ribbon, 
but  was  dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of  black.  The  Princess  Augusta, 
the  Dukes  of  Cumberland  and  Cambridge,  and  two  of  the  King's 
sons,  and  Lady  Mary,  and  Colonel  Fox,  Lady  Errol  (another  of 
the  King's  daughters),  Madame  d'Este  (daughter  of  the  Duke  of 
Sussex),  and  several  lords  and  ladies  in  waiting,  formed  the 
Royal  party.  I  think  they  came  in  eight  carriages,  all  with  the 
Royal  arms  and  liveries.  When  the  King  entered  the  door,  Sir 
Martin  Shee  presented  him  the  keys  of  the  Academy  on  a  silver 
plate.  They  were  highly  polished,  and  had  arrived  that  morning 
from  Birmingham,  and  as  it  had  been  found  (to  the  great  conster- 
nation of  the  workman),  would  not  fit  the  locks.  The  King, 
however,  did  not  try  them,  but  returned  them  to  the  President, 
saying,  "  He  could  not  place  them  in  better  hands." 

His  Majesty  then  went-  regularly  through  all  the  rooms,  at- 
tended by  the  President  and  a  lord  in  waiting,  with  each  a  cata- 
logue in  their  hands,  ready  to  answer  any  questions,  we  (i.  e.,  the 
members  of  the  Council)  following  at  a  respectful  distance,  and 
taking  care  (which  required  some  little  attention)  never  to  stand 
with  our  backs  to  his  Majesty.  When  he  had  completed  the  round 
of  the  Exhibition,  he  asked  what  o'clock  it  was,  and  being  told  it 
wanted  a  quarter  to  three,  he  desired  Lord  Albemarle  to  make  ar- 
rangements for  the  departure.  According  to  etiquette,  all  the 
Royal  party  left  the  rooms  in  threes  and  fours,  as  their  carriages 
were  announced  before  the  King,  who  was  left  at  last  with  only 
the  Princess  Augusta  and  a  lord  and  lady  in  waiting.  We  were 
then  standing  in  a  row  before  him,  and  he  addressed  us  all  in  a 
loud  tone,  and  expressed  his  perfect  satisfaction  with  the  Exhibi- 
tion. He  bowed  round  to  us,  and  we  all  bowed  still  lower,  and 
followed  him  out  of  the  room.  When  he  came  out  under  the  por- 
tico, the  band  struck  up  "  God  Save  the  King,"  and  he  advanced 
to  the  front,  bare-headed,  and  bowed  to  the  people  below,  who 

20 


306 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1837. 


cheered  him  loudly.  He  left  the  door  exactly  at  three,  and  in  be- 
ing thus  punctual  showed  his  consideration  for  those  who  he 
knew  expected  to  be  admitted  at  that  time.  The  rooms  were 
very  soon  crowded  with  the  usual  visitors  ;  and  about  four  o'clock 
the  Duchess  of  Kent  and  Princess  Victoria  came,  without  any 
ceremony,  in  the  midst  of  the  company,  having  sent  us  word  in 
the  morning  that  they  intended  doing  so.  This  was  never  done 
before,  their  visits  on  all  other  occasions  having  been  strictly  pri- 
vate. The  little  Princess  has  all  the  charms  of  health,  youth, 
and  high  spirits.  She  could  have  seen  little  of  the  Exhibition,  as 
she  was  herself,  from  the  moment  of  her  entering  the  room,  the 
sole  object  of  attraction,  and  there  were  so  many  people  among 
the  nobility  present  whom  she  knew,  and  every  one  of  whom  had 
something  to  say  to  her.  She  heard  that  Charles  Kemble  was  in 
the  room,  and  she  desired  he  might  be  presented  to  her,  which 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  making  one  of  his  best  genteel  com- 
edy bows.    She  shook  hands  and  chatted  with  Mr.  Rogers. 

As  the  private  view,  you  know,  is  a  show  of  company  and  not 
of  pictures,  I  have  left  myself  no  room  to  speak  of  the  latter, 
but  will  do  so  in  another  letter,  and  by  the  first  opportunity  I 
will  send  you  a  catalogue. 

Turner  desires  me  to  tell  E***  C****  that  he  cannot  under- 
take a  picture  of  less  size  than  three  feet  by  four,  and  that  his 
price  will  be  200  guineas  for  that  size.    *    *    *  * 

This  year,  too,  was  that  of  Her  Majesty's  coronation,  at  which 
ceremony  Leslie  was  present.  He  gives  an  account  of  it  to  his 
sister  in  the  following  letter. 

London,  July  24,  1837. 
I  am  painting  Lord  and  Lady  Holland  at  their  house,  and 
through  the  kindness  of  her  ladyship  I  obtained  a  ticket  to  see 
the  coronation  from  the  Earl  Marshal's  box.  A  ticket  was  also 
sent  me  as  a  member  of  the  Academy,  which  I  gave  to  Harriet, 
but  as  they  were  for  different  parts  of  the  Abbey  and  different 
entrances,  we  could  not  go  together.  I  was  obliged  to  hire  a 
Court  dress  for  the  occasion,  and  appeared  for  the  first  and  last 
time  of  my  life  with  a  sword  by  my  side.    I  was  very  near  the 


1837.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


307 


altar  and  the  chair  in  which  the  Queen  was  crowned,  and  when 
she  signed  the  coronation  oath,  I  could  see  that  she  wrote  a  large 
bold  hand.  I  intend  painting  the  subject,  and  Lady  Holland  ob- 
tained for  me  an  order  of  admission  to  sketch  the  decorations  in 
the  Abbey  before  they  were  removed. 

I  took  Harriet  and  the  four  eldest  children,  and  though  the 
crowd  was  immense,  we  were  protected  by  two  policemen,  who 
kept  an  open  space  for  us,  and  placed  in  the  same  seat  from  which 
I  had  witnessed  the  ceremony,  where  we  staid,  quite  out  of  the 
crowd,  and  as  long  as  we  pleased.  It  is  impossible  by  words  to 
convey  to  you  an  idea  of  the  magnificence  of  the  spectacle. 
Even  the  appearance  of  the  Abbey  with  the  spectators  (before 
any  of  the  personages  engaged  in  the  ceremony  came  in),  was 
worth  getting  up  at  half-past  two  in  the  morning,  as  we  did,  to 
witness.  We  were  in  the  Abbey  from  five  till  past  four  in  the 
afternoon.  Refreshments  of  every  kind  were  to  be  had  there, 
but  I  had  taken  some  biscuits  in  my  pocket  which  satisfied  me. 
The  Queen,  I  am  told,  had  studied  her  part  very  diligently,  and 
she  went  through  it  extremely  well.  I  don't  know  why,  but  the 
first  sight  of  her  in  her  robes,  brought  tears  into  my  eyes,  and  it 
had  this  effect  on  many  people ;  she  looked  almost  like  a  child. 
She  is  very  fond  of  dogs,  and  has  one  very  favourite  little  spaniel, 
who  is  always  on  the  look  out  for  her  return  when  she  has  been 
from  home.  She  had  of  course  been  separated  from  him  on  that 
day  longer  than  usual,  and  when  the  state  coach  drove  up  to  the 
steps  of  the  palace,  she  heard  him  barking  with  joy  in  the  hall, 
and  exclaimed,  '  There's  Dash  ! '  and  was  in  a  hurry  to  lay  aside 
the  sceptre  and  ball  she  carried  in  her  hands,  and  take  off  the 
crown  and  robes,  to  go  and  wash  little  Dash.  ***** 

*  *  *  The  place  where  I  sat,  commanded  a  view  of  the  peers 
but  not  the  peeresses,  except  of  the  Royal  Family,  all  of  whom  I 
was  very  near.  The  Duke  de  Nemours  was  in  the  same  box 
with  them. 

The  young  Queen  visited  the  Exhibition  in  August.  Here  is 
Leslie's  account  of  the  visit. 


308 


EXTKACTS  FROM 


[1837. 


TO  MISS  ANNE  LESLIE. 

London,  Aug.  15,  1837. 

Before  the  pictures  were  removed  from  the  Exhibition,  the 
little  Queen  paid  it  a  visit.  She  did  not  go  in  state  (that  is,  with 
a  guard  of  soldiers),  and  the  policemen  and  her  footmen  had  great 
difficulty  in  keeping  the  crowd  from  incommoding  her  when  she 
alighted  at  the  Academy. 

Her  mother  was  with  her,  and  she  was  attended  by  the  Duchess 
of  Sutherland,  the  Marchioness  of  Tavistock,  and  two  young  ladies 
whose  names  I  did  not  hear.  These,  with  Lord  Albemarle,  and 
two  young  gentlemen,  completed  her  suite.  They  were  all  dressed 
very  plainly  in  mourning,  and  there  was  nothing  to  distinguish  the 
Queen  from  the  other  ladies,  but  a  long  train,  which  was  not,  how- 
ever, held  up.  She  looked  very  pretty,  and  none  of  the  engrav- 
ings yet  published  do  her  anything  like  justice.  Chalon  has 
made  a  splendid  drawing  of  her,  whole  length,  in  the  robes  of 
state,  and  when  an  engraving  of  this  gets  to  America,  you  will 
know  how  she  looks.  Her  manner  is  unaffectedly  graceful,  and 
towards  her  mother  she  appears  the  same  affectionate  little  girl 
we  saw  at  the  Academy  on  the  1st  of  May,  still  calling  her 
'  Mamma.'  Before  leaving  the  rooms,  the  President  presented 
each  of  us  to  her  separately,  at  her  own  request,  and  she  after- 
wards took  occasion  to  address  a  word  or  two  to  each  by  name. 
She  asked  me  how  many  pictures  I  had  there,  and  if  I  did  not 
think  it  a  very  fine  exhibition.  The  day  was  very  fine,  and  on 
her  leaving  the  Academy,  her  carriage  was  opened,  so  that  the 
crowd,  which  had  greatly  increased,  had  a  full  view  of  her  as 
she  drove  away,  amidst  the  most  enthusiastic  greetings.  It  is 
remarkable  that  the  first  exhibition  of  the  Academy  in  the  new 
building,  should  have  been  visited  by  two  sovereigns,  and  two 
heirs  presumptive  to  the  throne  (the  Duke  of  Cumberland  being 
the  present  heir,  and  the  Queen  having  been  the  heir  when  the 
Academy  opened).  ****** 


In  September  Leslie  was  again  at  Petworth.    Lord  Egremont 


1838.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


309 


was  now  in  his  eighty-fifth  year.  The  globe  Leslie  speaks  of  in 
the  following  letter  to  his  wife,  is  the  one  introduced  in  his  pic- 
ture of  '  Lady  Carlisle  carrying  the  Pardon  to  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland  in  the  Tower.' 

Sept.  5th,  1837. 

Dearest  Harry  !  —  When  I  got  here  yesterday,  Lord  Egre- 
mont  and  all  the  family  were  at  Egg  Dean  fair,  so  that  you  may 
judge  how  well  he  is.  On  his  return  he  would  go  up-stairs  to 
look  at  the  pictures  which  were  in  my  room,  although  I  offered 
to  bring  them  down  ;  and  this  morning  he  was  up  in  the  top 
rooms  of  all  after  the  old  globe  which  I  am  to  introduce  into  the 
new  picture.  He  approves  of  the  composition,  and  I  am  to  go 
on  with  it  as  it  is.  How  much  I  wish  you  could  be  with  me  ! 
The  house  is  so  quiet. 

Heaven  bless  thee,  dearest  Harry !  I  wish  it  were  possible 
for  thee  and  dear  Mary  to  come  here  next  week,  or  if  you  could 
bring  them  all.  Lord  Egremont  is  so  well,  and  the  house  is  so 
quiet,  and  it  seems  so  unnatural  for  me  to  be  here  without 
thee.  *  * 

1838. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

The  Principal  Characters  in  the  '  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor'  Assem- 
bled at  the  House  of  Mr.  Page.  (A  scene  not  in  the  play,  but  sup- 
posed to  take  place  in  the  first  act)  — 

 "  There's  pippins  and  cheese  to  come." 

—  Sir  Hugh  Evans. 
He  had  painted  the  same  subject,  with  variations,  in  1831.    The  picture 
of  1838  was  painted  for  Mr.  Sheepshanks,  and  is  now  in  the  National  Col- 
lection. 

A  Portrait  of  Mrs.  Bates.  (Tn  the  collection  of  Joshua  Bates,  Esq.  En- 
graved—  private  plate.) 

Of  the  year's  exhibition,  which  contained  Wilkie's  picture  of 
'  The  Queen's  First  Council,'  he  says,  in  a  letter  to  his  sister 
Anne,  of  April  30, 


"  I  have  just  returned  from  the  Academy,  where  I  think  we 


310 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1838. 


shall  have  an  amusing  exhibition.  There  are  Queens  of  all  sorts 
and  sizes,  as  you  may  suppose,  good,  bad,  and  indifferent.  Sully's 
is  not  finished,  and  of  course  not  there ;  the  best  are  Wilkie's  and 
Chalon's.  Wilkie  has  painted  her  at  her  first  council,  which  took 
place  immediately  on  the  news  of  the  death  of  the  King  reaching 
London.  There  are  an  immense  number  of  figures,  and  the 
peculiarity  of  the  subject,  a  young  girl  of  eighteen,  unattended 
by  any  other  female,  taking  her  place  at  the  head  of  a  long  table 
and  surrounded  by  all  the  great  dignitaries  of  the  church,  state, 
and  law,  is  very  striking.  She  is  dressed  very  simply,  in  white 
(for  it  is  not  the  etiquette  that  she  should  be  in  mourning  till  after 
the  funeral  of  the  King),  and  this  adds  to  her  innocent  and  dove- 
like appearance.  Chalon's  drawing  of  her  is,  I  think,  a  better 
likeness  than  Wilkie's  ;  it  is  a  small  whole-length  figure,  sitting, 
and  in  her  every-day  dress."  *  *  * 

This  year  brought  the  painter  into  his  first  contact  with 
Royalty.  He  began,  in  the  autumn,  his  picture  of  '  The  Queen 
receiving  the  Sacrament  at  her  Coronation.'  He  describes  in  his 
Autobiography  the  circumstances  to  which  he  owed  this  honourr 
able  but  onerous  commission.  I  have  known  more  than  one 
painter  who  has  been  similarly  honoured,  but  I  fear  they  would 
all  agree  that  the  honour  hardly  compensates  the  anxiety,  fret, 
and  loss  of  time  inseparable  from  having  to  paint  exalted  person- 
ages, whose  days  are  too  much  at  the  bidding  of  state  and  cere- 
monial engagements  to  allow  of  their  giving  a  painter  either  long 
or  regular  sittings.  Leslie  used  to  employ  his  enforced  leisure  on 
these  occasions  in  copying  one  of  her  Majesty's  exquisite  De 
Hooghes  and  a  Nicholas  Maas.  These  copies  were  included  in 
the  recent  sale  of  the  painter's  sketches  and  studies,  and  showed 
that  power  of  catching  the  spirit  and  character,  and  much  of  the 
magical  atmospheric  effect,  of  the  originals,  which  might  have 
been  anticipated  from  skill  like  Leslie's  united  to  his  feeling  and 
admiration  for  the  works  of  these  wonderful  Dutchmen.  I  print 
these  letters  written  to  his  wife  from  Windsor,  as  presenting  a 
pretty  contrast  between  the  painter's  home  thoughts  and  longings 
and  his  employment.  His  heart  was  all  the  while  in  the  quiet 
little  house  in  St.  John's  Wood,  thinking  of  the  "  old  sofa,"  and 


1838.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


311 


"  the  door  to  be  cut  from  Braddy's  room,"  and  "  what  little  cheap 
toy  he  could  bring  home  for  each  of  the  darlings." 

Castle  Inn,  Dec.  lllh,  1838. 

Dearest  Love  !  —  The  train  was  heavily  loaded  to-day,  hav- 
ing (besides  the  weight  of  my  newly-acquired  consequence)  five 
coaches  and  I  don't  know  how  many  horses.  We  got  to  Windsor, 
however,  a  very  few  minutes  past  ten,  and  I  have  established 
myself  in  the  pleasant  bedroom  we  had  together.  I  had  no 
sittings  to-day,  nor  have  I  seen  her  Majesty,  who  rode  out.  I 
was  glad  to  find  Lord  Melbourne  is  here,  and  I  sent  a  message  to 
him  to  request  a  sitting  to-morrow,  and  received  for  answer  that 
he  will  do  so  with  pleasure.  The  Duchess  will  also  sit,  and 
should  I  get  them  both  done,  I  hope  to  be  at  home  on  Thursday. 
At  any  rate,  I  have  no  doubt  of  being  with  you  on  Friday,  that 
I  may  attend  the  club*  I  found  at  the  Castle  a  letter  from  Lady 
Holland  waiting  for  me,  full  of  kind  expressions,  and  the  con- 
gratulations of  Lord  Holland  and  herself.  She  says  they  will  be 
away  ten  days  or  a  fortnight.  She  has  heard  from  Lord  Mel- 
bourne and  Lady  Cowper  that  the  Queen  is  extremely  pleased 
with  the  picture. 

I  think  the  sooner  you  get  the  door  cut  from  Braddy's  room, 
the  better,  but  do  not  have  the  old  sofa  removed  up-stairs  till  I 
return. 

The  reporter  of  the  '  Court  Circular '  asked  to  see  me  this 
afternoon,  and  wanted  to  know  what  I  wished  put  in  the  papers. 
I  told  him  there  was  nothing  to  put  in,  as  the  Queen  had  not  been 
sitting  to-day. 

I  have  really  nothing  more,  dear  pet,  to  fill  my  paper  with,  and 
you  know  I  can't  write  without  materials. 

Heaven  bless  thee,  and  all  the  rest  of  thee,  from  long  Bob 
down  to  short  George.  Tell  me  what  little  cheap  toy  I  can  bring 
for  each  of  them,  —  something  easily  packed. 

C.  R.  L. 

P.  S.  —  I  shall  look  anxiously  for  one  of  thy  nice  letters  to- 
morrow. 

*  The  Sketching  Society.  —  Ed. 


312 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1838. 


I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  a  companion  in  the  coffee  room.  I 
hope  he  will  go  away  to-morrow. 

Windsor,  12th  Dec.  1838. 
Dearest  Harry  !  —  I  was  a  little  disappointed  at  no  letter 
from  thee  to-day,  but  I  suppose  thee  had  nothing  to  tell  me,  and 
plenty  to  do  besides  writing.  I  hoped  to  be  with  thee  to-morrow, 
but  am  sorry  to  say  I  cannot.  Lord  Melbourne  sat  this  morning, 
like  a  good  prime  minister,  but  was  called  away,  and  will  sit  again 
to-morrow  ;  and  the  Duchess  of  Kent  sent  word  she  would  prefer 
sitting  to-morrow  instead  of  to-day,  and  I  was  obliged  to  acquiesce. 
She  will  have  the  dress  on  that  she  wore.  The  Queen  held  a 
council,  and  afterwards  rode,  and  I  saw  her  not.  Lady  Mary 
Stopford  came  in,  and  praised  the  picture  very  much,  and  I 
thought  her  a  very  agreeable  person,  —  and  my  friend  the  lighter 
of  fires  also  looked  at  it  and  said,  "  that's  very  like  Melbourne" 
quite  in  the  style  and  tone  of  Peter.  I  painted  till  half-past  three 
and  then  took  a  turn  on  the  terrace,  and  now  I  have  the  evening 
before  me.  I  am  happy  to  say  the  man  who  was  in  the  coffee 
room  yesterday  has  gone.  The  villain  sat  in  my  arm  chair,  the 
only  one  of  the  kind  in  the  room.  If  I  can  get  the  Duchess 
done  in  one  sitting,  I  have  no  doubt  of  being  home  on  Friday, 
but  if  not  it  will  be  Saturday  ;  and  unless  I  have  something  par- 
ticular to  say,  I  had  better  not  write  to  thee  again,  to  save  the 
postage,  but  I  do  hope  for  a  letter  from  thee  to-morrow.  Love 
and  kisses  to  all,  but  most  to  thy  dear  self,  from  thy 

C.  R.  L. 

At  the  same  date  he  writes  to  his  sister  Anne  :  — 

*  *  *  "  My  late  letters  to  you  have  been  chiefly  on  one  subject, 
the  Coronation,  a  subject  now  far  more  important  to  me  than  ever. 
I  came  here  on  the  29  th  of  last  month  by  appointment  to  have  a 
sitting  of  the  Queen,  and  with  little  expectation  of  having  more 
than  one.  The  composition  was  entirely  arranged  on  the  canvas, 
and  the  Queen  seemed  much  pleased  when  she  saw  it.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  sitting  she  said  she  would  sit  again  the  next 
day,  and  a  few  minutes  after  she  left  the  room  the  Marquis  of 


1838.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


313 


Conyngham  (Lord  Chamberlain)  came  in,  and  asked  me  if  the 
picture  was  bespoken.  He  said  he  knew  her  Majesty  would  like 
to  have  a  picture  of  mine,  and  he  thought  she  would  prefer  this 
subject  to  any  other.  I  told  him  it  was  begun  conditionally  for  a 
gentleman  who  was  to  have  given  me  an  answer  a  month  ago 
whether  or  not  he  would  take  it.  As  this  gentleman  had  been  in 
town,  but  had  not  called  to  see  the  picture,  and  to  let  me  know  his 
decision  at  the  time  he  had  himself  appointed,  I  considered  it  now 
to  be  at  my  own  disposal,  and  that  of  course  I  should  feel  very 
highly  honoured  should  her  Majesty  wish  to  possess  it.  The  next 
morning  Lord  Torrington,  with  Lady  Tavistock  and  some  of  the 
maids  of  honour,  came  to  look  at  it,  and  said  they  were  sure,  from 
the  way  in  which  the  Queen  spoke  of  it  at  dinner  the  day  before, 
she  intended  to  have  it,  which  1  soon  heard  was  the  case. 

"  I  have  been  here  ever  since  with  the  exception  of  a  day  or 
two  in  town  (I  perform  the  journey  in  an  hour  by  the  railroad), 
and  the  Queen  has  sat  five  times.  She  is  now  so  far  satisfied 
with  the  likeness  that  she  does  not  wish  me  to  touch  it  again. 
She  sat  not  only  for  the  face,  but  for  as  much  as  is  seen  of 
the  figure,  and  for  the  hands  with  the  coronation  ring  on  her 
finger.  Her  hands,  by  the  bye,  are  very  pretty,  the  backs  dim- 
pled, and  the  fingers  delicately  shaped.  She  was  particular  also 
in  having  her  hair  dressed  exactly  as  she  wore  it  at  the  ceremony 
every  time  she  sat.  She  has  suggested  an  alteration  in  the  com- 
position of  the  picture,  and  I  suppose  she  thinks  it  like  the  scene, 
for  she  asked  me  where  I  sat,  and  said,  '  I  suppose  you  made  a 
sketch  on  the  spot.' 

"  The  Duchess  of  Kent  and  Lord  Melbourne  are  now  sitting 
to  me,  and  last  week  I  had  sittings  of  Lord  Conyngham  and 
Lady  Fanny  Cowper  (a  very  beautiful  girl  and  one  of  the 
Queen's  train-bearers),  who  was  here  for  a  few  days  on  a  visit 
to  her  Majesty.  Every  day  lunch  is  sent  to  me,  which,  as  it  is 
always  very  plentiful  and  good,  I  generally  make  my  dinner.  The 
best  of  wine  is  sent  in  a  beautiful  little  decanter  with  a  V.  R.  and 
the  crown  engraved  on  it,  and  the  tablecloth  and  napkins  have  the 
royal  arms  and  other  insignia  on  them  as  a  pattern. 

"  I  have  two  very  good  friends  at  the  Castle,  one  of  the  pages, 
and  a  little  man  who  lights  the  fires.    The  Queen's  pages  are  not 


314 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1839. 


little  boys  in  green,  but  tall  and  stout  gentlemen  from  forty  to  fifty 
years  of  age.  My  friend  (Mr.  Batchelor)  was  a  page  in  the 
time  of  George  III.  and  was  then  twenty  years  old.  George  IV. 
died  in  his  arms,  he  says,  in  a  room  adjoining  the  one  I  am  paint- 
ing in.  Mr.  Batchelor  comes  into  the  room  whenever  there  is 
nobody  there,  and  admires  the  picture  to  my  heart's  content.  My 
other  friend,  the  fire-lighter,  is  extremely  like  Peter  Powell,  only 
a  size  larger.  He  also  greatly  admires  the  picture  ;  he  confesses 
he  knows  nothing  about  the  robes,  and  can't  say  whether  they 
are  like  or  not,  but  he  pronounces  the  Queen's  likeness  excel- 
lent."      *       *  * 

1839 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

*  "  Who  Can  This  Be?  "  — *  "  Who  Can  This  be  From?  "  —  *  Head  of 
Sancho  Panza.  (Engraved).  —  *  Head  of  Dulcinea.  (Engraved. 
All  painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  National  Collec- 
tion.) 

Portrait  of  Dr.  Howley,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.    (Painted  for  Mrs. 

Howley,  and  engraved.) 
Small,  Portrait  of  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland  in  her  Coronation 

Robes,  and  of  the  Marquis  of  Stafford.    (Painted  for  Sir  H.  G. 

Moon.) 

Leslie  was  this  year  much  employed  on  the  Coronation  Pic- 
ture. During  his  evenings  he  was  busy  with  the  pen,  putting 
together  his  Life  of  Constable,  which  was  a  work  of  love  and 
duty  with  him.  Mr.  Forster  of  Pall  Mall,  who  conducted  the 
sale  of  the  pictures  and  sketches,  which  remained  in  Constable's- 
possession  at  the  time  of  his  death  in  1837,  has  told  me  of  the 
affectionate  pains  and  interest  with  which  Leslie  superintended 
and  aided  in  the  preparations  and  arrangements  for  the  sale.  To 
use  Mr.  Forster's  expressive  words,  "  he  seemed  to  treat  the  pic- 
tures as  affectionately  as  if  they  had  been  his  friend's  children." 
And  this  was  his  real  feeling.  But  Leslie  was  one  of  those  men 
who  thought  no  amount  of  trouble  or  labour  too  great  to  encoun- 
ter for  a  friend.  He  was  the  usual  negotiator  of  Irving's  literary 
*  See  Introductory  Essay. 


1839.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


315 


bargains,  and  laboured  in  the  same  way  as  cheerfully  for  his  sis- 
ter. 

It  is  mainly,  if  not  entirely,  to  his  strenuous  efforts  that  we  owe 
the  subscription  to  purchase  Constable's  picture  of  i  The  Corn- 
field,' for  the  National  Gallery  ;  and  Leslie's  correspondence 
touching  that  purchase  makes  up  a  goodly  bundle  of  MS. 

His  affectionate  regard  for  all  Constable's  children  was  re- 
doubled after  their  father's  death. 


TO  MISS  A.  LESLIE. 

"  March  18,  1839. 

"  We  are  all  as  usual,  and  I  have  been  constantly  working  on 
my  picture  for  the  Queen,  every  day  or  two  putting  a  new  face 
in  it,  here  and  there,  as  I  can  get  them  to  sit.  It  will  not  be  pos- 
sible for  me  to  have  it  ready  for  the  Exhibition,  as  some  of  the 
most  important  personages  will  not  be  ready  till  after  Easter. 
The  picture  is  now  at  Buckingham  Palace,  and  I  had  sittings 
from  the  Queen  and  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  and  her  Majesty  is  to 
sit  again  this  week  (I  hope,  for  her  sake,  for  the  last  time).  She 
is  extremely  obliging,  and  puts  me  in  high  spirits  about  the  pic- 
ture by  liking  it  very  much. 

"  Ask  Edward  Carey  if  he  would  publish  a  book  of  my  writ- 
ing, and  with  my  name.  It  would  be  The  Life  of  an  Artist, 
filled  with  the  most  interesting  letters  on  all  matters  relating  to 
art." 

"  June  16,  1839. 

^jl^fetteiT  ■'  *  *  *  *  * 

"  My  picture  is  at  present  at  Cambridge  House,  where  I  am 
painting  the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  Princess  Augusta,  and  Miss 
Kerr  (lady  in  waiting  to  the  Princess).  On  Monday  I  take  it  to 
Clarence  House,  to  paint  the  Princess  Augusta  (the  Queen's 
aunt),  and  then  I  shall  have  finished  the  Royal  Family.  I  have 
now  thirty  two  portraits  in  the  picture.  It  is  very  amusing  to  me 
being  at  4he  houses  of  those  Royal  personages,  and  seeing  how 
they  live  among  themselves  —  much  more  so  than  seeing  them  at 
drawing-rooms  and  levees,  though  not  so  splendid." 


316 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1839. 


"  London,  Dec.  19,  1839. 
*  *  *  "In  a  day  or  two  I  shall  send  the  little  picture  I  have 
painted  for  E.  Carey,  and  I  shall  request  him  to  hand  you  the 
price  of  it  (25  guineas),  which  I  must  beg  you  to  accept  from 
me.  I  could  not  get  permission  to  copy  the  sketch  of  Lady 
Fanny  Cowper  for  him,  but  I  will  paint  some  pretty  face  (a  lady) 
as  a  companion  to  the  one  I  now  send ;  and  if  it  does  not  meet 
with  his  approbation,  he  may  return  it,  or  perhaps  somebody  else 
may  take  a  fancy  to  it  in  America. 

"  Some  time  ago  Wilkie  told  me  that  a  friend  of  his  in  New 
Orleans  had  purchased  of  Earle  your  copy  of  '  Katharine  and 
Petruchio '  as  an  original  picture,  and  never  doubted  its  being  so, 
until  he  saw  the  engraving  from  Lord  Egremont's  picture.  He 
then  wrote  to  Wilkie  to  ascertain  the  truth  ;  of  course  I  have  set 
the  matter  right,  but  I  am  very  sorry  such  a  deception  should  be 
practised. 

"  The  Queen  is,  I  believe,  satisfied  with  my  picture ;  but  I  did 
not  see  her  Majesty  when  I  took  it  to  Windsor. 

"  There  is  no  probability  that  a  knighthood  will  be  offered  to 
me,  and  therefore  it  is  needless  to  say  I  should  assuredly  decline 
it  if  offered.  But  I  do  not,  like  the  fox  in  the  fable,  call  the 
grapes  sour  that  are  above  my  reach  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  think 
titles  very  good  things,  but  then  they  should  be  accompanied  by 
proportionate  wealth.  In  our  humble  way  of  living,  i  Sir 
Charles,'  and  1  My  Lady '  would  be  ridiculous.  Were  the  case 
even  otherwise,  and  I  could  keep  my  carriage  (which  I  think  a 
titled  person  should  do),  as  long  as  such  men  as  Chalon,  Turner, 
and  Mulready  are  undistinguished  except  by  the  addition  of  R.A. 
to  their  names,  I  may  certainly  be  content  with  that  honour. 

"  I  have  been  introduced  to  Joseph  Bonaparte  (at  his  request, 
by  Captain  Morgan,  who  brought  him  to  England),  and  I  am 
much  pleased  with  his  fine,  benevolent,  and  intelligent  head,  and 
his  simple,  natural  manners.  Strange  to  say,  something  in  his 
expression  (not  features)  reminds  me  of  Lord  Egremont.  His 
features  and  the  shape  of  his  head  (I  should  think)  are  like 
Napoleon's."    *    *  * 


1840.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


317 


1840. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(Exhibited.)  Portrait  of  the  Right  Hon.  Charles  Christopher  Baron 
Cottenham,  Lord  High  Chancellor.  (Painted  for  W.  Russell,  Esq., 
and  engraved.) 

(Not  exhibited.)    Child  in  a  Garden,  with  his  Little  Horse  and  Cart. 

(A  portrait  of  George,  the  painter's  youngest  son.) 
Griselda.    (Both  in  the  National  Collection.) 

Leslie  was  hard  at  work  this  year  on  his  picture  of  *  Fairlop 
Fair.'  He  loved  suburban  fairs,  and  had  been  a  great  haunter 
of  them  in  his  student-days,  with  Newton,  Powell,  Willis,  and 
Irving.  All  his  studies  for  this  picture  were  from  the  life,  and 
his  portfolios  were  full  of  gipsy  sketches,  made  for  it.  ' 

Much  as  Leslie  loved  Constable,  and  anxious  as  he  was  to  do 
honour  to  his  memory  in  his  Life  of  him,  he  found  the  pen  a  more 
fatiguing  tool  than  the  pencil,  and  complains  a  good  deal  in  hia 
correspondence  about  the  weariness  of  pen  and  ink  and  paper. 

"  April  27,  1840. 

*  *  *  "  The  truth  is,  all  my  leisure  moments  have  of  late  been 
so  entirely  engrossed  in  putting  together  the  memoir  I  have 
undertaken  to  write  of  Constable,  that  I  have  scarcely  been  able 
to  take  up  a  pen  for  any  other  purpose.  If  I  live  to  get  through 
it,  I  will  never  write  anything  of  the  kind  again.  *  *  *  Tell 
Sully  I  have  seen  the  present  he  sent  to  Mr.  Rogers  of  the 
Queen's  portrait.  We  dined  with  the  old  gentleman  lately. 
Moore,  the  poet,  and  his  wife  and  son  were  there,  and  a  large 
party,  to  whom  the  picture  was  shown.  Mr.  Rogers  remarked 
how  singular  it  was  that  he  should  receive  the  portrait  of  the 
Queen  of  England  from  America,  and  painted  by  an  American.* 

"  I  undeceived  him,  however,  as  to  the  last  circumstance.  I 
fear  you  will  think  the  practice  I  have  lately  had  in  writing,  has 
not  improved  my  hand ;  but  the  truth  is,  I  am  thoroughly  tired 
of  pen,  ink,  and  paper. 

*  Mr.  Sully  was  an  Englishman. 


318 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1840. 


"  Tell  Eliza  I  think  it  is  very  kind  of  her  that  she  ever  writes 
to  me  now  she  is  an  authoress." 

The  following  letter  is  of  interest  for  its  estimate  of  books  and 
men :  — 

London,  July  18(h,  1840. 

Dear  Eliza,  —  For  once  I  will  answer  a  letter  on  the  day  of 
receiving  it.  I  wish  I  could  always  do  so,  it  would  save  me 
from  many  perplexities.  Yours  of  the  loth  June  has  this  mo- 
ment reached  me,  and  I  am  much  gratified  by  the  good  account 
you  give  of  yourself,  and  the  very  delightful  one  of  Tom's 
family.    *    *  * 

There  is  not  a  man  in  the  world  I  respect  more  than  I  do  my 
only  brother.  Having  such  a  brother,  how  can  you  call  Uncle 
Toby  "  an  old  goose. "  To  my  mind  Uncle  Toby  is  the  most  per- 
fect specimen  of  a  Christian  gentleman  that  ever  existed,  for  I 
don't  like  to  doubt  that  he  has  existed.  Sir  Charles  Grandison 
is  not  to  be  compared  to  him.  Mr.  Shandy,  an  admirably  drawn 
character  also,  is  cleverer  than  Uncle  Toby,  but  "  My  Uncle  "  is 
the  wisest  man.  But  you  ladies  always  prefer  scamps  if  they 
have  talent,  to  good  men  who  are  not  so  brilliant ;  Lord  Byron 
was  a  prodigious  favourite  with  the  ladies.  And  you  really  seem 
to  think  I  could  go  to  Paris  to  see  the  arrival  of  the  remains  of 
Bonaparte ;  I  would  not  walk  across  the  street  for  it.  He  was 
certainly  a  man  of  genius,  but  an  entirely  selfish  person.  Had  1 
remained  in  America,  I  would  have  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
tomb  of  Washington,  whom  even  the  profligate  Byron  could  not 
help  eulogising  — 

"  And  left  the  name  of  Washington 
To  show  the  world  there  was  but  one." 

(I  quote  from  memory.)  And  on  consideration  I  admire  you  for 
the  constancy  of  your  attachment  to  Napoleon,  for  I  recollect 
when  we  were  children  we  used  to  make  you  very  angry  by  say- 
ing that  "  Bonaparte  was  Betsy's  beau."  After  all,  I  must  say 
ladies  are  always  admirers  of  genius  in  men,  and  not  being  men, 
they  do  not  know  how  bad  bad  men  are.    Lady  Byron  thought 


1840.1 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


319 


she  could  reform  her  Lord,  poor  simpleton !  Bonaparte's  heart- 
less conduct  to  Josephine  ought  to  damn  him  with  the  sex ;  but 
no,  he  was  a  brilliant  and  successful  soldier!  Yet,  I  think  it 
would  not  be  difficult  to  prove  that  Washington  displayed  more 
military  talent  in  contending  with  the  well  disciplined  soldiers  of 
England,  so  badly  supported  as  he  was  by  the  Congress,  and  with 
an  army  of  raw  recruits  who  left  him  every  few  months  to  return 
to  their  farms.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  there  was  much 
national  enthusiasm  among  the  American  private  soldiers.  It 
was  their  leaders  only  that  felt  it.  While  I  was  at  West  Point, 
I  read  the  life  of  Washington,  and  could  not  help  contrasting  him 
with  Bonaparte,  who  began  his  career  at  the  head  of  the  best 
soldiers  then  in  the  world,  made  so  for  him  by  the  revolutionary 
generals  who  had  preceded  him.  His  great  triumphs  were 
obtained  over  Germans  and  Italians,  but  he  never  faced  the 
English,  as  Washington  did,  till  Waterloo.  But  from  these  great 
heroes  I  must  digress  to  myself. 

I  am  very  busy  with  a  picture  of  Fairlop  Fair,  and  am  painting 
landscape  a  good  deal  out  of  doors,  in  most  delicious  weather  — 
the  most  delightful  of  all  employments  to  an  artist.  Harriet  and 
the  children  are  all  well.  My  Reminiscences  go  on ;  but  I  never 
proposed  to  Edward  Carey  to  publish  them.  I  shall  leave  them 
as  a  legacy  to  my  children,  and  never  meant  anything  else.  It 
was  the  memoirs  of  my  friend  Constable  I  spoke  about,  which, 
with  the  materials  I  have,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  I  shall  make 
the  most  interesting  life  of  an  artist  that  has  ever  appeared. 

I  received  six  hundred  guineas  for  the  Queen's  picture.  This 
was  the  price  fixed  by  myself,  and  which  I  had  previously  named 
to  the  gentleman  I  was  to  paint  it  for,  before  she  expressed  a  wish 
to  have  it.  I  did  not  think  it  right  to  ask  the  Queen  more.  Never 
was  sovereign  who  spent  royal  money  in  a  way  more  creditable  to 
the  spender  than  she  does,  and  this  is  great  praise.  In  a  former 
letter  you  spoke  of  coming  to  England ;  I  hope  this  is  true. 

Yours  ever, 

C.  R.  L. 

Here  is  a  pleasant  picture  of  a  painter's  holiday  :  — 


320 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1841. 


Broadstairs,  August  17th,  1840. 

My  Dear  Anne,  —  I  owe  you  a  letter,  and  may  not  soon 
have  a  better  opportunity  of  paying  the  debt  than  at  this  place, 
where  I  have  been  idling  for  the  last  week.  Harriet  has  been 
here  longer  with  the  four  eldest  children,  and  now  we  are  all  to- 
gether in  a  little  cottage  on  the  cliff,  which  commands  a  fine 
view  of  the  sea  and  harbour.  A  month  or  six  weeks  here  will, 
I  trust,  do  all  the  children  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  they  all  now 
look  much  the  better  for  being  here.  Robert,  who  has  grown 
nearly  as  tall  as  I  am,  and  still  retains  his  fondness  for  every- 
thing marine,  handles  the  oar  very  well,  and  we  often  indulge  him 
with  a  boat,  though  never  without  a  boatman  with  him.  He  is 
also  learning  to  swim.  I  tried  at  first  to  teach  him,  but  being  an 
indifferent  swimmer  myself,  he  did  not  get  on.  He  has  had  one 
lesson  from  a  boatman,  and  with  one  or  two  more,  I  dare  say  he 
will  swim  pretty  well.  You  know  the  Isle  of  Thanet  is  a  very  fine 
farming  country.  When  I  first  came  the  corn-fields  were  in  all 
their  glory,  and  the  harvest  was  going  on.  Nothing  can  be  more 
beautiful  than  many  of  the  villages  in  the  neighbourhood.  On 
the  23rd,  the  time  for  which  we  have  hired  this  little  cottage  will 
expire,  and  we  shall  then  return  to  town.  I  shall  have  been 
here  a  fortnight,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  six  weeks.  I  shall 
then,  I  hope,  soon  complete  my  picture  of  '  Fairlop  Fair,'  for 
which  I  have  been  making  some  sketches  even  here,  as  there 
are  abundance  of  donkeys  here,  and  still  more  at  Ramsgate,  and 
there  is  a  family  of  gipsies  encamped  in  a  lane  not  far  from  us. 

1841. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 
{Exhibited.) 

Le  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme. 

M.  Jourdain.    ■  "  Tout  beau. 

Ho)a!    Ho!  Doucement! 

Diantre  soit  la  coquine  ! 
Nicole.  Vous  me  dites  de  pousser. 

M,  Jourdain.  Oui  —  Mais  tu  me  pousses  en  tierce  avant  que  de 
pousser  en  quarte,  et  tu  n'a  pas  la  patience  que  je 
pare."  Act  ii.  Scene  3. 


1841.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


321 


(Painted  for  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  in  the  National  Collection,  and 
repeated  twice;  once  for  Lord  Holland;  the  second  repetition  is  in  the  pos- 
session of  Joseph  Gillott,  Esq.) 
Fairlop  Fair.    (Painted  for  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.) 

The  Library  at  Holland  House,  with  Portraits.  (Painted  for  Lord 
Holland  and  engraved.) 

(Not  exhibited.) 

Lucretia. —  A  Study  for  the  Queen  in  her  Coronation  Robes.  (Both 
in  the  National  Collection.)  —  The  First  Lesson,*  from  a  design  by 
Raffaelle.  (Painted  first  for  Mr.  Rogei's,  and  now  in  the  possession  of 
Thos,  Miller,  Esq.;  subsequently  twice  repeated  *  and  engraved.)  —  The 
Queen  in  her  Coronation  Robes.    (In  the  National  Collection.) 

Leslie  was  hard  at  work  this  year  on  '  The  Christening  of  the 
Princess  Royal.' 

If,  as  one  of  the  earlier  passages  in  the  following  letter  to  his 
sister  says,  "  he  was  trying  to  grow  rich,"  the  latter  part  shows 
some  of  the  motives  he  had  for  it.  Separated  as  he  now  was  for 
life  from  his  brothers  and  sisters  at  Philadelphia,  his  heart  clave 
to  them  as  closely  as  ever. 

London,  July  15,  1841. 

My  Dear  Anne,  —  I  am  very  many  letters  in  debt  to  you, 
but  never  have  I  had  so  little  time  to  myself  as  this  spring  and 
summer.  I  have,  for  the  last  two  months,  been  painting  every 
day  from  home  on  the  picture  of  the  i  Christening,'  and,  anxious 
to  make  the  most  of  the  long  days,  I  am  occupied  from  nine  in 
the  morning  till  seven  or  eight  in  the  evening,  and  after  that  I 
have  generally  notes  on  business  to  answer,  which  take  up  all 
the  evening.    To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  trying  to  grow  rich. 

I  have  now  a  few  words  to  say  on  a  subject  of  great  impor- 
tance to  you  and  to  me.  I  have  long,  dear  Anne,  regretted  that 
you  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  receiving  that  assistance 
from  Henry  Carey  which  it  is  my  duty,  as  it  will  in  future  be  my 
pleasure,  to  give  you,  and  which,  if  my  health  is  spared  me,  and 
my  time  not  interrupted,  I  trust  I  shall  be  able  to  continue.  I 
have  sent  fifty  pounds  to  Henry  for  your  use ;  and  wish  to  know 
what  your  expenses  per  annum  will  be  at  a  boarding-house,  as  I 
suppose  it  will  not  be  so  convenient  to  Henry  and  Patty  that  you 

*  A  third  repetition  painted  on  the  etching  was  sold  at  the  sale  of  Leslie's 
sketches  and  studies. 

21 


322 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1841. 


should  continue  to  live  with  them  after  Virginia's  marriage,  who 
T  learn  will  remain  with  her  husband  in  their  house. 

Mr.  Dickens,  on  starting  for  America  in  December  of  this 
year,  carried  to  Irving  this  letter  from  his  old  friend,  touching  on 
Time's  changes,  since  those  merry  struggling  days  of  Buckingham 
Court. 

12,  Pine  Apple  Place,  Edgeware  Road, 
Dec.  31st,  1841. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  Mr.  Dickens  tells  me  you  urged  him  to 
become  acquainted  with  me,  for  which  I  now  send  you,  by  him, 
my  thanks,  and  every  good  wish  of  this  wishing  season.  I  have 
long  wanted  to  write  to  you:  but  of  what  can  I  write?  My 
present  circle  of  friends  are  most  of  them  unknown  to  you.  Of 
all  our  old  cronies  in  by-gone  days,  Peter  Powell  is  the  only  one 
left,  and  he  is  living  at  Clapham,  and  I  see  him  less  frequently 
than  I  wish.  But  he  is  the  same  merry,  amusing,  light-hearted, 
discontented  little  Radical  that  you  remember  him.  My  wife, 
who  sends  her  best  regards  and  good  wishes  to  you,  is  (I  think) 
very  little  altered  in  appearance  since  you  saw  her.  She  looks 
more  like  the  sister  than  the  mother  of  her  elder  children. 
Robert  is  now  six  feet  high,  and  I  am  anxiously  looking  out  for 
some  employment  for  him  for  life  ;  no  very  easy  matter  to  find. 
I  am  growing  grey,  and  am  still  forming  better  plans  and  resolu- 
tions for  the  future  than  I  can  adhere  to.  This  has  been  a  sad 
year  for  the  Arts.  The  loss  of  Wilkie  and  Chantrey  seem,  with 
our  present  prospects,  not  likely  to  be  soon  supplied.  Chantrey's 
death  was  not  unexpected,  as  he  had  been  for  some  time  evidently 
declining.  But  the  death  of  dear  Wilkie  was  entirely  so.  Had 
he  remained  in  England,  it  is  believed  we  should  still  have  had 
him  with  us,  and  probably  for  many  years.  A  few  days  ago,  I 
saw  the  last  oil  picture  he  touched.  It  is  a  small  whole-length 
portrait  of  Mehemet  Ali ;  somewhat  sketchy,  but  beautifully 
painted.  The  head  full  of  life  and  character,  and  with  that  sort 
of  expression  which  carries  the  conviction  of  its  being  a  likeness. 
It  is  dated  the  11th  of  May,  and  he  died  the  1st  of  June.  I  well 
know  how  you  must  have  felt  on  hearing  the  sad  news.    At  a 


]842.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


323 


meeting  of  his  friends  for  the  purpose  of  devising  the  best  method 
of  doing  honour  to  his  memory,  and  at  which  Sir  Robert  Peel 
presided,  Lord  Mahon  spoke  of  the  great  pleasure  he  had  en- 
joyed in  Wilkie's  society  and  yours,  when  he  met  you  together 
in  Spain.  My  chief  object  in  writing  is  to  induce  you  to  do  the 
same.  Yours  ever  truly, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
New  York. 


1842. 

Pictures  of  the  Tear. 

Scene  from  Twelfth  Night. 

Sir  Toby.  —  "Accost,  Sir  Andrew,  Accost!  " 

Sir  Andrew.  —  "  What's  that?  " 

Sir  Toby.  —  "  My  niece's  chambermaid." 

Sir  Andrew.  —  "  Good  Mistress  Accost,  I  desire  better  acquaintance." 

Act.  i.  Scene  3. 

Painted  for  Thomas  Baring,  Esq.,  but  repeated  for  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq., 
Hands  worth,  near  Birmingham.) 
Scene  from  Henry  the  Eighth. 

(Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  National  Collection. 
Repetition  of  diploma  picture.) 

Queen  Kath.  —  "  Take  thy  lute,  wench:  my  soul  grows  sad  with  troubles: 
Sing,  and  disperse  them,  if  tttou  canst:  leave  working." 

Act  iii.  Scene  1. 

The  Christening  of  the  Princess  Royal  was  still  in  progress. 

Leslie's  i  Life  of  Constable'  was  published  this  year.  Dickens 
returned  from  America,  where  he  had  seen  the  members  of  Les- 
lie's family ;  and  Robert  Leslie,  whose  passion  was  for  the  sea 
and  a  sailor's  life,  sailed  for  New  York  in  September  with  his 
father's  old  friend,  Captain  Morgan.  Robert  Leslie's  pictures  of 
nautical  incidents  are  distinguished  by  great  originality  and  truth. 
Indeed,  I  believe  they  are  the  only  truthful  pictures  ever  painted 
from  sailor-life  aboard  ship.  It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  he  has 
now  abandoned  the  profession  of  a  painter.  This  year,  too, 
Washington  Irving  was  once  more  in  London. 

Leslie  writes  to  his  sister  (Feb.  8,  1842)  — 


324 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


1842. 


*  *  *  "  My  picture  of  the  '  Christening '  is  not  yet  finished. 
I  am  chiefly  waiting  for  the  Queen  Dowager,  who  has  been  at  the 
point  of  death.  But  as  she  is  recovered,  and  is  now  in  London, 
I  hope  soon  to  have  a  sitting. 

"  You  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  poor  Miss  Wilkie,  in  the 
deep  affliction  she  suffered  from  the  death  of  her  brother,  first  de- 
rived amusement  from  one  of  your  books.  She  was  staying  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Collins,  who  are  great  admirers  of  all  your  writ- 
ings, and  I  think  it  was  '  Mrs.  Washington  Potts '  which,  when 
they  read  it  aloud,  first  drew  a  smile  from  Miss  Wilkie. 

"  I  have  lately  painted  a  small  picture  from  4  Twelfth  Night,' 
of  three  figures  —  '  Accost,  Sir  Andrew,  accost !  '  " 

He  writes  to  Miss  Anne  Leslie,  (May  11,  1842)  — 

"  Washington  Irving  is  now  in  London,  and  looking  uncom- 
monly well.  He  is  in  the  greatest  possible  demand,  and  I  con- 
sider myself  lucky  in  having  seen  him  three  times.  To-day  he 
has  promised  to  call  here  to  see  my  picture  of  the  i  Christening.' 
Yesterday  we  met  him  at  Murray's  at  dinner.  Tom  Moore  was 
there,  and  Lockhart.  Moore  sang  half-a-dozen  of  his  own  melo- 
dies as  delightfully  as  ever.  One,  of  which  the  air  is  extremely 
beautiful, '  Come  o'er  the  sea,  maiden  to  me,'  he  encored  himself  in, 
and  sang  it  better  the  second  time  than  the  first.  The  ladies 
were  in  raptures. 

And  on  July  30,  1842,  he  tells  the  same  sister  — 

"  I  have  advanced  very  far  in  a  large  picture  from  the  '  Vicar 
of  Wakefield.'  The  '  Fudge '  scene.  It  has  fifteen  figures. 
'  The  Christening '  goes  on  slowly.  I  will  send  you  a  copy  of 
the  '  Life  of  Constable '  when  it  is  ready ;  and  as  I  get  that  off 
my  hands  I  hope  to  be  a  better  correspondent." 


1843.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


325 


1843. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 
Portrait  of  Benjamin  Travers,  Esq.,  F.R.S. 

The  Queen  Receiving  the  Sacrament  (the  concluding  part  of  the  cere- 
mony of  Her  Majesty's  Coi'onation)  on  the  28th  June,  1838. 

"  The  picture  represents  Her  Majesty  habited  in  the  Dalmatic  Mantle 
(the  Coronation  Robe),  having  taken  off  the  Crown  on  approaching  the 
altar,  and  wearing  no  jewels.  The  peers  and  peeresses,  who  had  worn 
their  coronets  from  the  moment  in  which  the  Queen  was  crowned,  have 
now  put  them  off.  The  Sacrament  is  administered  by  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  assisted  by  the  Rev.  Lord  John  Thynne,  in  the  absence 
of  the  Dean  of  Westminster.  On  the  farthest  side  of  the  altar  is  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  (the  Marquis  of  Conyngham)  and  the  Bishop  of  Lon- 
don. The  Sword  of  State  is  borne  by  Viscount  Melbourne,  near  whom 
are  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  the  Duke  of  Sutherland.  The  Crown  is 
held  by  the  Lord  Great  Chamberlain  (Lord  Willoughby  D'Eresby),  next 
to  whom  is  the  Earl  Marshall  (the  late  Duke  of  Norfolk).  Under  the 
lower  canopy  are  seated  the  ladies  of  the  Royal  Family.  Nearest  Her 
Majesty  is  the  late  Princess  Augusta,  attended  by  Lady  Mary  Pelham ; 
the  Princess  Augusta  of  Cambridge,  attended  by  the  Hon.  Miss  Kerr; 
the  Princess  Hohenloe  and  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  attended  by  Lady  Flora 
Hastings  and  Viscount  Morpeth.  The  other  ladies  and  gentlemen  in 
attendance  under  the  canopy,  are  the  Ladies  Caroline  Campbell  and 
Caroline  Legge,  and  Viscounts  Villiers  and  Emlen.  Immediately  behind 
the  Queen  are  the  Mistress  of  the  Robes  (the  Duchess  of  Sutherland) 
and  Lady  Barham  (Lady  in  Waiting).  In  therforeground  are  five  of  the 
eight  young  ladies  who  bore  the  Queen's  train,  namely,  the  Ladies  Caro- 
line Lennox,  Adelaide  Paget,  Fanny  Cowper,  Wilhelmina  Stanhope,  and 
Mary  Grimston.  Beyond  the  Coronation  chair  are  the  Duke  de  Nemours 
and  Prince  George  of  Cambridge,  and  behind  it  are  the  Dukes  of  Sussex 
and  Cambridge,  the  Duke  of  Coburgh,  Prince  Ernest  of  Phillipstahl,  the 
late  Duke  of  Argyll,  and  two  Pages  of  Honour  (the  Marquis  of  Stafford 
and  Lord  Mount  Charles)." 

Scene  from  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield." 

"  Virtue,  my  dear  Lady  Blarney,  virtue  is  worth  any  price ;  but  where 
is  that  to  be  found?    Fudge!  "  Chap.  11. 

(Now  in  the  Collection  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  Preston.) 

Portrait  of  Henry  Angelo,  Esq. 

Scene  from  Moliere. 

31.  Purgon.    J'ai  a  vous  dire  que  je  vous  abandonne  a  votre  mauvaise 
constitution,  a  l'intemperie  de  vos  entrailles,  a  la  corruption  de  votre 
sang,  a  Faci-etC  de  votre  bile,  et  a  la  feculence  de  vos  humeurs. 
Toinette.    C'est  fort  bien  fait. 


326 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1843. 


Argan.    Mon  Dieu! 

M.  Purgon.    Et  je  v<3ux  qu'avant  qu'il  soit  quatre  jours  vous  deveniez 
dans  un  £tat  incurable. 
Argan.    Ah!  mistMcorde ! 

Le  Malade  Imaginaire,  Act  iii.  Scene  6. 
(Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  National  Col- 
lection. 

This  year  Leslie  made  his  first  attempt  at  fresco,  in  the  garden- 
house  of  Buckingham  Palace,  as  he  details  in  this  letter  to  his 
sister. 

"  London,  July  28,  1843. 

"  I  have  been  very  busy  painting  a  fresco,  a  first  attempt,  in  a 
little  pavilion  in  the  gardens  of  Buckingham  Palace.  I  leave 
home  every  morning  at  eight  or  nine,  and  do  not  return  till  seven 
in  the  evening.  I  am  now  writing  before  breakfast.  I  was 
asked  to  do  this  by  the  Prince,  and  there  are  seven  other  artists 
engaged  in  the  same  way  —  Maclise,  Landseer,  Sir  Charles  Ross, 
Stanfield,  Uwins,  Etty,  and  Eastlake. 

"  Two  or  three  of  us  are  generally  there  together,  and  the 
Queen  and  Prince  visit  us  daily,  and  sometimes  twice  a  day,  and 
take  a  great  interest  in  what  is  going  on.  I  hope  to  finish  in  a 
day  or  two.  The  subjects  are  all  from  Milton's  '  Comus,'  and 
mine  is  Comus  offering  the  cup  to  the  lady." 

TO  MISS  ANNE  LESLIE. 

August  18,  1843. 

I  have  sent  by  Captain  Morgan  a  few  engravings  —  an 
archbishop  and  a  judge  *  for  you  —  as  you  are  a  portrait  painter. 
The  archbishop  is  not  handsome,  but  I  think  you  will  like  his 
expression.  He  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  and  amiable  men  I 
ever  met  with. 

The  window  in  the  picture  of  the  archbishop  is  that  of  his 
library  at  Lambeth  Palace.  I  like  to  paint  people  in  their  own 
houses,  and  with  their  own  rooms  for  the  background  ;  and  I 
think  you  may  find  it  both  a  popular  and  useful  mode  of  painting 
portraits  when  you  can  do  so. 

*  Archbishop  Howley,  and  Lord  Chancellor  Cottenham. 


1844.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


327 


1844. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Scene  from  Comus. 

"  Hence,  with  thy  brew'd  enchantments,  foul  deceiver." 
(Now  in  the  collection  of  John  Nay  lor,  Esq.,  Leigh  ton  Hall.) 
Sancho  Panza  in  the  Apartment  of  the  Duchess. 

Don  Quixote,  Part  ii.  Chap.  33. 
(Painted  for  Robert  Vernon,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  National*  Collec- 
tion.   A  repetition  of  the  Petworth  picture.    Not  exhibited.) 
Lucy  Pp;rcy  (Lady  Carlisle)  Bringing  the  Pardon  to  her  Father  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland  in  the  Tower.    (Painted  for  Lord 
Leconfield,  and  now  at  Petworth.) 
Portrait  of  Miss  Burdett  Coutts. 
Christ  and  his  Disciples  at  Capernaum. 

1.  "  At  the  same  time  came  the  disciples  unto  Jesus,  saying,  Who  is 
the  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven? 

2.  "  And  Jesus  called  a  little  child  unto  him,  and  set  him  in  the  midst 
of  them, 

3.  "  And  said,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Except  ye  be  converted,  and 
become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en." Matthew  xviii.  1-3. 

(Painted  for  J.  Lennox,  Esq.,  New  York.) 

This  year  Leslie  was  one  of  the  hanging  committee  at  the 
Academy.  That  harassing  and  thankless  office  discharged,  he 
gave  himself,  for  the  first  time  since  his  visit  to  Paris  in  1817, 
the  pleasure  of  a  continental  tour.  In  company  with  Mrs.  Leslie, 
her  sister-in-law,  Mrs.  Samuel  Stone,  and  Mr.  Dunlop's  niece, 
Miss  Gamble,  he  visited  Belgium,  from  Ostend,  by  Bruges,  Ghent, 
Brussels,  Mechlin,  Liege,  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  Cologne;  thence  to 
Bonn,  and  by  the  Rhine  to  Mayence ;  thence  down  the  river  to 
Dusseldorf,  and  through  Utrecht  to  Amsterdam,  Rotterdam,  and 
Antwerp,  where  the  party  took  steam  for  London. 

His  letters  to  his  children,  his  sisters,  and  his  friends  the  Cha- 
lons, give  his  impressions  of  the  tour,  which  to  Leslie,  with  his 
especial  love  of  Flemish  and  Dutch  art,  was  replete  with  instruc- 
tion and  interest. 

*  See  my  Introductory  Essay.  —  Ed. 


328 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1844. 


Brussels,  May  lith,  1844. 

My  Dear  Harriet,  —  Your  mamma  and  I  have  greatly 
enjoyed  our  excursion  so  far,  much  more  even  than  we  expected ; 
and  could  we  be  sure  that  you  are  all  well  and  happy  at  home, 
we  should  be  perfectly  happy.  Your  mamma  is  so  delighted 
with  the  solemn  music  and  splendid  ceremonies  in  the  churches 
here,  that  I  am  almost  afraid  she  will  turn  Roman  Catholic.  In- 
deed, though  there  are  many  things  trifling,  and  some  things  that 
appear  to  us  ridiculous,  yet  there  is  so  much  that  is  truly  solemn 
and  devotional,  so  much  to  delight  the  eye  and  ear,  and  the  priests 
and  people  appear  so  sincere  in  their  manner,  that  I  am  sure  no- 
body who  has  any  sense  of  religion  at  all  can  help  being  deeply 
affected  in  their  churches.  I  could  spend  the  whole  day  listening 
to  the  music,  which  is  the  grandest  I  ever  heard.  We  are  partic- 
ularly fortunate  in  being  here  in  this  month,  which  is  devoted  to 
services  in  honour  of  the  Virgin  ;  and  in  all  the  churches  the 
image  is  placed  over  the  principal  altar,  and  over  her  canopies, 
sometimes  fantastical,  but  often  very  superb.  She  is  dressed  in 
the  most  costly  materials,  and  has  a  crown  of  silver  on  her  head, 
and  so  has  the  infant  in  her  arms,  who  holds  a  long  silver  cross, 
the  lower  end  of  which  is  a  spear  which  pierces  the  head  of  a 
green  dragon  under  the  feet  of  the  Virgin.  Over  the  Virgin's 
head  is  a  large  halo  of  silver  stars.  How  much  dear  little  Polly 
would  be  delighted  with  all  this  !  At  Bruges,  during  one  part  of 
the  service,  the  image  of  the  Virgin  was  carried  round  the  church 
in  a  procession  of  priests  in  the  richest  dresses,  with  boys  in 
white  swinging  censers  of  incense  up  in  the  air,  while  the  music 
and  chanting  were  most  impressive.  The  organ  is  accompanied 
by  other  instruments.  Some  of  the  priests  play  on  enormous 
brass  trombones,  the  notes  of  which  are  of  the  deepest  bass,  while 
in  the  organ-loft  there  are  fiddles  and  violoncellos.  I  never  heard 
anything  at  the  opera  that  seemed  to  me  so  fine. 

We  have  had  delightful  weather  though  cool,  but  that  is  the 
better  for  walking  about.  Yesterday  afternoon  we  drove  three 
miles  out  of  Brussels  in  an  open  carriage  to  Laeken,  the  palace 
of  Leopold.  As  he  is  at  present  there  we  could  only  see  the 
outside,  which  is  very  handsome.    The  gates  in  front  are  magnif- 


1844.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


329 


icent,  and  reminded  us  of  the  gates  at  Hampton  Court.  Near  it 
is  a  small  palace  that  was  the  residence  of  the  present  King  of 
Holland  when  he  was  Prince  of  Orange.  His  father,  when  King 
of  this  country,  used  to  walk  from  Laeken  every  day  to  Brussels 
quite  unattended.  It  is  said  that  one  day  he  helped  up  an  old 
woman  who  was  coming  to  market,  and  had  fallen  from  her  horse 
or  donkey.  She  did  not  know  who  he  was,  but  on  his  giving  her 
some  money,  it  was  so  much  more  than  she  supposed  anybody  less 
than  a  king  could  give,  that  she  guessed  who  he  was. 

We  have  not  yet  seen  many  first-rate  pictures,  and  it  will  be 
some  time  before  we  do,  as  we  propose  going  to  Cologne  and  up 
the  Rhine  to  Frankfort  before  we  visit  Holland  and  Antwerp. 
Those  places  will  be  last,  but  I  am  sure  not  least  with  me.  But 
I  will  now  give  my  pen  to  your  mamma. 

In  a  letter  to  Robert  from  Bruges,  after  giving  an  account  of 
the  voyage,  in  compliment  to  his  son's  passion  for  the  sea,  he 
goes  on  to  say  — 

"Everything  is  new,  strange,  and  amusing,  though  the  appear- 
ance of  many  things  in  the  country,  in  the  villages  we  have 
passed  through,  and  in  this  place,  remind  me  of  the  Dutch  and 
Flemish  pictures.  Your  mamma  and  I  are  constantly  reminded 
by  the  looks,  and  even  the  dress  of  the  little  chubby  children  in 
the  streets,  of  the  children  in  Jan  Steen's  pictures." 

Frankfort,  May  22nd,  1844. 

Dear  John  and  Alfred  Chalon,  —  I  must  indulge  myself 
in  writing  to  you,  though  I  am  far  from  sure  my  letter  will  be 
worth  the  postage.  When  I  left  home  I  did  not  suppose  I  should 
have  reached  this  place,  but  the  facilities  of  travelling  and  the 
pleasant  weather  have  enticed  us  on.  We  turn  back,  however, 
to-morrow,  and  hope  to  be  in  London  the  beginning  of  June. 

The  scenery  of  the  Rhine  has  not  disappointed  me.  The 
rocks,  castles,  and  towns  are  very  picturesque,  but  I  must  say, 
the  vineyards  are  by  no  means  ornamental. 

It  is  all  very  well  for  a  poet  to  speak  of, 


"  The  vine-clad  steeps 


330 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1844. 


but  to  the  eye,  at  the  distance  from  which  they  are  seen  from  the 
steam-boat,  those  parts  of  the  hills  that  are  accessible  to  cultiva- 
tion, look  as  if  covered  by  enormous  threadbare  carpets,  a  pale 
green  pattern  on  a  drab  ground.  Besides  this,  there  are  innu- 
merable low  walls,  built  in  rows,  one  above  the  other,  like  steps, 
to  keep  the  earth  from  slipping  down.  I  have  no  doubt  but  that 
the  scenery  was  far  more  beautiful  before  the  vine  was  intro- 
duced. 

We  were  delighted  with  the  towns  we  have  seen  in  Belgium ; 
Bruges,  Ghent,  Brussels,  Mechlin,  and  Liege.  Antwerp  we  ex- 
pect to  see  on  our  way  back. 

We  were  particularly  fortunate  in  being  in  Belgium  this 
month,  in  which  there  are  some  peculiar  services  performed  in 
the  churches  in  honour  of  the  Virgin.  In  consequence  of  this, 
we  have  seen  much  that  was  magnificent  mixed  up  with  a  good 
deal  that  seemed  to  us  childish  and  theatrical ;  but  the  music  was 
sublime. 

At  Cologne  we  were  greatly  interested  in  what  we  saw  going 
on  at  the  Cathedral.  It  has  never  been  more  than  half  finished, 
and  the  King  of  Prussia  has  determined  to  complete  it.  For  this 
purpose,  four  hundred  workmen  are  constantly  employed,  and  it 
is  supposed  that  it  will  be  many  years  before  it  is  finished. 

It  seems  that  the  original  plan,  as  far  as  it  is  indicated,  will  be 
closely  adhered  to.  The  style  of  ornament,  which  is  exceedingly 
rich,  is  exactly  followed  in  what  is  already  done  of  the  new  part. 
In  the  interior,  I  saw  something  that  looked  like  a  large  square 
band-box,  suspended  against  the  wall,  at  a  great  height,  in  which 
an  artist  of  Frankfort,  of  the  name  of  Steinle,  was  at  work,  paint- 
ing a  figure  of  a  large  earthenware  angel  in  fresco,  —  one  of  a 
series  filling  the  spaces  above  some  lofty  arches  of  this  form. 
The  figures  that  were  finished,  were  well  composed  and  graceful, 
but  wretchedly  coloured. 

At  Bonn,  in  the  hall  of  the  college  in  which  Prince  Albert  was 
educated,  we  saw  three  large  frescoes  by  a  pupil  of  Cornelius,  — 
very  poor  imitations  of  Raphael. 

To-day  we  have  seen  some  oil  pictures  by  Lessing,  Overbeck, 
and  others,  of  which  I  like  Lessing's  the  best.  In  the  Museum 
where  these  are,  are  some  modern  landscapes,  and  a  large  sea 


1844.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


331 


piece  (a  storm),  —  detestable.  But  to  make  amends  for  these, 
the  same  collection  contains  some  fine  works  of  the  early  Flem- 
ish masters,  particularly  a  series  of  very  small  pictures  by  Van 
Eyck,  of  the  history  of  John  the  Baptist,  which,  though  hard  in 
their  outlines,  and  quaint  in  the  costume,  are  perfectly  exquisite 
in  colour,  and  as  fresh,  and  bright,  and  rich,  as  if  painted  but 
yesterday. 

There  was  also  a  small  Jan  Steen,  which,  in  comparison  with 
the  modern  German  pictures,  looked  like  silver  compared  with 
mud. 

Our  intention  is  to  call  at  Amsterdam  and  the  Hague  on  our  . 
return,  where  I  expect  to  be  much  delighted. 
I  am,  my  dear  friends, 

Yours  ever  truly, 

C.  R.  Leslie. 

The  autumn  was  spent  by  the  painter  in  London,  after  leaving 
his  family  at  Bembridge,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight.  His  friend  Cap- 
tain Morgan  took  them  round  in  his  ship,  the  '  Victoria,'  to  Ports- 
mouth. He  writes  to  his  sister,  Miss  Leslie,  from  on  board  the 
ship. 

(Aug.  20.) 

"  I  wrote  Patty  some  account  of  our  trip  on  the  Continent, 
which  we  greatly  enjoyed.  We  saw  a  great  deal  in  a  short  time, 
and  I  am  now  quite  satisfied  to  remain  in  England  for  the  rest  of 
my  life.  As  I  grow  older,  I  feel  less  disposed  to  encounter  the 
fatigue  of  travelling.  I  may  possibly,  when  I  can  afford  it,  take  a 
peep  at  Paris  again ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  get  so  far  as 
Italy,  that  country  which  everybody  says  every  artist  should  see." 

(Aug.  29,  1844.) 

"Will  you  tell  Edward  Carey,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry, 
that  the  price  of  '  Comus '  *  is  250  guineas  without  a  frame. 
Should  it  go  to  America,  I  would  rather  send  it  with  no  frame,  as 
the  picture  I  took  with  me,  of  *  Martha  and  Mary,'  was  injured 
by  an  ornament  of  the  frame  becoming  loose,  and  I  have  seen  a 
*  The  picture  is  now  in  the  collection  of  John  Naylor,  Esq.  — Ed. 


332 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1845-6. 


picture  of  Wilkie's  very  much  injured  in  the  same  way.  The 
price  I  have  named  is  not  more  than  half  the  price  I  should  ask 
for  a  picture  of  the  size  of  '  Comus,'  painted  under  other  circum- 
stances than  that  was.  Being  for  a  fresco,  it  is  painted  in  a 
bolder  manner,  and  more  calculated  for  distance  than  if  I  had 
painted  it  with  no  such  purpose.  I  am  unable  to  get  Mr.  Lenox's 
picture  done  in  time  for  the  Captain,  but  hope  very  soon  to  send 
it," 

1845. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

The  Heiress.    (Painted  for  E.  Bicknell,  Esq.) 
Scene  from  Mouere. 

Trissotin.  —  Sonnet  a  la  Princesse  Uranie  sur  sa  Fievre. 
Votre  prudence  est  endormie, 
De  traiter  magnifiquement, 
Et  de  loger  superbement, 
Votre  plus  cruelle  ennemie. 
Belise.  —  Ah !  le  joli  debut ! 

Armande.  —  Quil  a  le  tour  galant! 

Pluhuninte.  —  Lui  seul,  des  vers  ais^s  possede  le  talent, 

Les  Femmes  Savantes,  Acte  iii.  Scene  2. 
(Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  and  now  in  the  National  Collection.) 


1846. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Scene  from  "  Roderick  Random." 

At  length  the  important  hour  arrived,  and  the  will  was  produced  in  the 
midst  of  the  expectants,  who  formed  a  group  whose  looks  and  gestures 
would  have  been  very  entertaining  to  an  unconcerned  spectator.  But  the 
reader  can  scarce  conceive  the  astonishment  and  mortification  that  ap- 
peared, when  an  attorney  pi-onounced  aloud  the  young  squire  sole  heir  of  all 
his  grandfather's  estate,  personal  and  real.  My  uncle,  who  had  listened  with 
great  attention,  sucking  the  head  of  his  cudgel  all  the  while,  accompanied 
these  words  of  the  attorney  with  a  stare  and  a  whew  that  alarmed  the  whole 
assembly.  The  oldest  and  pertest  of  my  female  competitors,  who  had  al- 
ways been  very  officious  about  my  grandfather's  person,  inquired  with  a 
faltering  accent,  and  visage  as  yellow  as  an  orange,  if  there  were  no  lega- 
cies? and  was  answered  "None  at  all;"  upon  which  she  fainted  away. 
The  rest,  whose  expectations  (perhaps)  were  not  so  sanguine,  supported 


1846.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


333 


their  disappointment  with  more  resolution,  though  not  without  giving  evi- 
dent marks  of  indignation,  and  grief  at  least  as  genuine  as  that  which  ap- 
peared in  them  at  the  old  gentleman's  death.  My  conductor,  after  having 
kicked  with  his  heel  for  some  time  against  the  wainscot,  began,  "  So,  there's 
no  legacy,  friend.  Ha!  here's  an  old  succubus.  But  somebody's  soul 
howls  for  it,  d— n  me."  —  Chap.  IV.  (Painted  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq. 
A  smaller  repetition  was  painted  for  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  Preston,  in 
1856.) 

Mother  and  Child.    (Painted  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq.,  engraved  by  J.  H. 

Robson,  A.R.A.    Repetition  painted  for  James  Lenox,  Esq.,  New  York.) 
Portrait  of  Charles  Dickens,  Esq.,  in  the  character  of  Captain  Bobadil. 
(Engraved.) 

"  A  gentleman!  Odso,  I  am  not  within." 

Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  Act  i.  Scene  5. 

The  correspondence  of  this  year  is  of  purely  family  matters, 
and  exhibits  Leslie  now,  as  always,  in  the  character  of  the  most 
affectionate,  generous,  and  thoughtful  of  brothers.  The  delicate 
health  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Carey,  was  a  source  of  great  anxiety  to 
him,  and  his  letters  are  filled  with  suggestions  and  advice  as  to 
her  case.  His  second  sister,  Anne,  too,  had  just  lost  the  situation 
of  mistress  of  drawing,  which  she  held  at  Rutger's  Institute,  in 
New  York  ;  and  her  brother  was  ready  with  the  help  of  his 
counsel  and  his  purse.  The  only  passage  bearing  immediately 
on  the  painter's  work  occurs  in  the  following  letter.  The  picture 
referred  to  is  now  at  Petworth. 

{Oct.  7,  1846.) 

"  The  picture  I  have  just  finished  is  from  a  true  story  in  the 
reign  of  James  I.  The  Earl  of  Northumberland  was  imprisoned 
in  the  Tower  for  fifteen  years,  on  suspicion  of  being  concerned  in 
the  Gunpowder  Plot.  He  spent  his  time  in  scientific  pursuits, 
with  some  of  the  most  learned  men  of  the  time,  who  constantly 
visited  him,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  who  was  at  the  same  time  a 
prisoner.  His  youngest  daughter,  Lady  Lucy  Percy,  had  mar- 
ried the  Earl  of  Carlisle,  a  man  her  father  greatly  disliked,  and 
to  make  her  peace  with  him,  her  husband,  who  was  one  of 
James's  favourites,  procured  his  pardon.  The  picture  represents 
the  lady  bringing  the  pardon  to  her  father,  while  engaged  with  his 
literary  friends  in  study.  It  was  begun  many  years  ago  for  Lord 
Egremont,  who  was  descended,  by  the  female  line,  from  the  Earls 


334 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1847. 


of  Northumberland,  but  I  laid  it  aside  at  his  lordship's  death,  and 
I  have  now  just  finished  it  at  the  request  of  Colonel  Wyndham, 
the  present  possessor  of  Petworth." 

Washington  Irving  was  in  London  in  August  this  year,  but 
unluckily  Leslie  and  he  missed  seeing  each  other,  owing  to  Les- 
lie's absence  from  town  for  a  few  days  with  his  family,  on  a  trip 
round  to  Portsmouth  in  the  liner  commanded  by  his  friend,  Cap- 
tain Morgan. 

"  12,  Pine  Apple  Place,  Edgewaee  Road, 
"Aug.  20th,  1846. 

"  I  wish,"  he  writes  to  Irving,  "  it  would  please  the  American 
government  and  yourself  that  you  should  be  minister  here.  You 
will  not  suspect  me  of  meaning  a  compliment  when  I  say  what 
you  must  know  very  well  yourself,  that  no  other  man  would  be 
anything  like  so  popular  in  England.  I  had  been  looking  for 
you  every  day  since  May,  when  you  said  you  should  probably  be 
here,  and  it  is  very  provoking  to  have  missed  you  at  last.  I  was 
to  have  let  Father  Luke  know  of  your  arrival,  and  we  were  to 
have  dined  with  him.  Are  you  in  such  a  hurry  that  you  can't 
come  back  to  London  for  a  few  days  ?  I  wish  you  could,  and 
could  spend  them  here  ;  for  we  can  give  you  a  bed,  and  nothing 
would  give  us  greater  pleasure." 

1847. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Martha  and  Mary.    (  A  repetition  of  the  picture  painted  for  Mr.  Dunlop  in 

1833.    Now  in  the  collection  of  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq.,  Handsworth,  near 

Birmingham.) 
The  Pharisee  and  the  Publican. 

"  And  the  publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  up  so  much  as  his 

eyes  unto  heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to 

me,  a  sinner."  —  Luke,  xviii.  13. 

(Painted  for  James  Lenox,  Esq.,  New  York.) 
Children  Playing  at  Coach  and  Horses.   Not  exhibited.    (Painted  for 

Sir  Robert  Wigram.    Repeated  for  Thos.  Miller,  Esq.)— The  Lady  in 

Comus,  (in  the  possession  of  John  Heugh,  Esq.)  —  Portrait  of  Captain 

E.  E.  Morgan. 

The  following  passage  from  a  letter  of  this  year,  is  interesting 


1847.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


335 


for  its  reference  to  his  son  Robert's  picture,  which  will  be  re- 
membered by  many  of  my  readers  in  the  Exhibition  of  this  year, 
as  fully  bearing  out  all  Leslie  says  of  it.  There  was  an  indi- 
viduality and  truthfulness  in  Robert  Leslie's  pictures  from  sea- 
faring life  which  gave  them  a  special  value,  and  justify  my  regret 
that  he  should  have  abandoned  the  profession  of  a  painter.  The 
letter  shows,  too,  how  full  of  commissions  Leslie's  hands  were  at 
this  time.  Every  picture  he  painted  was  eagerly  bought,  and  had 
the  painter  received  one-half  of  the  prices  which  have  subse- 
quently been  realised  by  his  pictures,  in  the  changes  of  hand 
undergone  by  so  many  of  the  galleries  collected  by  the  new  class 
of  patrons  —  the  enriched  manufacturers  —  he  would  have  died  a 
very  wealthy  man.  As  it  was,  he  was  so  slow  and  scrupulous, 
even  to  fastidiousness,  in  his  work,  and  so  moderate  in  his  prices, 
that,  popular  as  he  was,  his  income,  when  at  its  highest,  was  but 
a  modest  one.  From  his  letters  there  always  peeps  a  rigid  spirit 
of  economy,  in  all  that  relates  to  pleasure  or  luxury.  It  is 
noticeable  in  the  little  details  of  the  visit  he  paid  to  Paris  this 
year,  in  company  with  his  daughters  Harriet  and  Mary. 

"  London,  April  16,  1847. 

"  Robert's  last  work  is  a  picture  of  figures,  the  grouping,  &c, 
entirely  his  own,  and  nothing  can  be  better  than  the  manner  in 
which  he  has  told  the  story  of  a  ship's  crew  coming  aft  in  a  body 
to  complain  to  the  captain  relative  to  their  allowance  of  biscuit. 
They  are  all  the  truest  sailors  that  ever  were  painted,  and  entirely 
free  from  anything  vulgar,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  true  and 
sunny.    I  hope  it  will  attract  notice  in  the  Exhibition. 

"  I  have  sent  three  pictures  to  the  R.  A. :  a  repetition  of  the 
'  Martha  and  Mary,'  but  varied,  about  the  size  of  Colonel  Per- 
kins's picture ;  a  picture  of  four  children  playing  at  coach-and- 
horses,  painted  for  the  Vice-Chancellor,  Sir  James  Wigram ;  and 
a  picture  of  the  parable  of  the  '  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,' 
which  is  for  Mr.  Lenox,  and  I  therefore  hope  you  will  see  it. 
The  pictures  I  am  engaged  to  paint  are,  one  for  Mr.  Bates,  one 
for  Mr.  Niewenhuys,  one  for  Mr.  Labouchere,  M.  P.,  one  for 
Lord  Charles  Townshend,  one  for  Mr.  John  Harris  (a  stranger 
to  me),  one  for  Mr.  Gibbons  (who  has  already  five  of  my  pic- 


336 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1847. 


tures),  one  for  a  Mr.  Vaughan,  one  for  Mr.  Sheepshanks,  one 
for  Mr.  Bicknell,  two  small  ones  for  Sam  Stone  (who  has  bought 
a  picture  of  mine  and  two  of  Robert's),  one  for  Mr.  Colls,  one  for 
Mr.  Bullock,  the  owner  of  the  'Martha  and  Mary'  (lately 
painted),  and  one  for  Lady  Chantrey  (the  widow  of  Sir  Fran- 
cis). 

I  mean  to  take  care  of  my  health,  live  regular,  and  not  work 
too  hard ;  but  my  late  attack  *  told  me  in  very  plain  terms  that  I 
am  growing  old,  and  I  try  to  make  up  my  mind  more  and  more 
every  day  to  be  thankful  for  prolongation  of  life,  and  contented  to 
die  whenever  it  may  please  God,  knowing  that  that  time,  when- 
ever it  comes,  must  be  the  best  time  for  me" 

He  tells  his  sister  (May  31,  1847)  — 

*  *  *  "  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  Robert  has  sold  his  ' 
picture  from  '  Two  Years  before  the  Mast '  to  Mr.  Gibbons,  the 
possessor  of  my  '  Roderick  Random,'  for  one  hundred  guineas." 

12,  Pine  Apple  Place,  Edgeware  Road, 
May  31,  1847. 

My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  have  thought  of  making  my  next  pic- 
ture the  interview  between  Columbus  and  the  Queen  of  Portugal, 
described  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  fifth  book  of  your  '  Life  of 
Columbus,'  and  if  you  could  kindly  give  me  any  hints  to  help  me 
in  the  composition,  I  shall  feel  greatly  obliged.  Can  you  tell  me 
why  the  Queen  was  at  a  monastery,  and  not  with  her  husband  — 
what  was  her  age,  and  from  what  history  I  can  get  particulars 
that  will  be  useful  ?  In  short,  any  information  you  will  take  the 
trouble  to  send  me,  will  be  very  acceptable. 

At  the  same  time,  tell  me  how  you  are,  and  when  will  your 

4  Life  of  Washington '  appear,  and  when  there  is  a  chance  of  our 

seeing  you  here  again. 

Washington  Irving,  Esq., 
New  York. 

He  writes  to  his  wife  from  Paris  — 

*  At  the  beginning  of  the  year  he  had  been  confined  to  his  room  for  three 
weeks  by  palpitation  of  the  heart.  —  Ed. 


1847.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


337 


"  Hotel  des  Tuileries, 

"  Rue  de  Rivoli,  a  Paris, 

"  Sept.  22nd,  1847. 

"  Dearest  Harry,  —  It  seems  almost  a  sin  for  me  to  be  en- 
joying the  delights  with  which  we  are  surrounded  without  you. 
But  I  hope  we  may  be  here  some  day  together.  Little  Polly  is 
regularly  admitted  a  student  in  the  Louvre.  How  amused  you 
would  be  to  see  her  sitting,  in  all  her  uprightness,  on  a  high  stool, 
with  her  sketch-book  in  her  hand,  and  her  water-colours  beside 
her,  before  a  most  beautiful  Terburgh,  drawing,  and  rubbing  out, 
and  not  finding  it  possible  to  please  herself,  as  usual.  Yesterday 
afternoon,  we  went  to  Franconi's,  an  immense  place  for  horse- 
riding,  where  the  performances  are  in  the  open  air,  and  in  the 
day  time,  the  audience  sitting  under  cover.  We  there  saw  a  tour- 
nament performed,  which  would  have  delighted  dearest  George 
beyond  measure. 

*       *       *>       *       *       *    '   *       *  m 

"  On  Sunday  we  heard  mass  in  the  church  of  St.  Roch  ;  the 
music  very  fine.  We  then  went  to  Versailles  along  a  most  beau- 
tiful road,  from  which  we  had  a  splendid  view  of  Paris.  We 
dined  at  Versailles,  and  on  our  return,  the  girls  being  tired  went 
to  bed,  and  I  strolled  out,  '  a  here-a  and  there-a.'  Seeing  a  dim 
light  through  the  window  of  one  of  the  old  churches,  I  went  in, 
and  heard  some  most  exquisite  music.  There  were  no  lights  in 
the  church,  except  on  the  altar,  which  was  covered  with  candles, 
and  the  decorations  all  white.  The  priests  were  also  in  white, 
and  two  women  were  singing,  with  a  priest  who  sang  the  bass. 

"  I  was  so  sorry  Harriet  was  not  with  me,  but,  as  we  expect  to 
remain  over  next  Sunday,  I  can  take  her.  The  girls  are  charmed 
with  the  beautiful  gardens,  and  the  shops  in  the  Palais  Eoyal, 
and  the  air  is  as  pure,  and  fresh,  and  mild,  as  in  the  Isle  of  Wight ; 
even  the  filth  of  the  town,  which  is  considerable,  scarcely  affects 
it.  But,  there  are  so  many  large  squares,  wide  streets,  and  public 
gardens,  that  we  are  very  little  annoyed  with  smells.  We  live 
next  door  to  the  King,  and  enjoy  his  garden  much  more  than  he 
does  himself.  He  is  now  at  the  Tuileries,  but  we  have  seen 
nothing  of  him." 

22 


338 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1847, 


"  Sept.  28rd,  1847. 

"  I  don't  know  when  I  have  felt  so  well  as  since  I  have  been 
in  Paris,  though  I  eat  and  drink  things  that  I  always  avoid  at 
home.  But  the  air  is  so  delicious,  and  the  amusements  so 
many,  and,  above  all  things,  the  Louvre  is  such  a  happiness 
to  me,  that  it  seems  impossible  for  me  to  be  otherwise  than 
well  here. 

"  The  weather  to-day  is  perfect,  neither  too  hot  nor  cold  ;  ex- 
actly the  kind  to  walk  about  in.  We  have  had  but  one  rainy 
day  since  we  have  been  in  France,  and  that  did  not  keep  us  at 
home,  for  there  are  so  many  arcades,  and  the  Palais  Royal,  the 
most  amusing  of  places,  has  all  the  side  walks  covered.  We 
breakfast  and  dine  there. 

"  We  have  not  yet  been  to  a  theatre,  excepting  Franconi's 
Hippodrome  ;  but  I  think  we  must  go  to  one  or  two.  The  diffi- 
culty is  to  choose  among  so  many. 

"  I  think  we  shall  leave  Paris  about  the  middle  of  next  week, 
perhaps  sooner.  The  expense  of  the  trip  I  shall  not  regret ;  it 
has  done,  and  seems  to  be  doing,  us  all  so  much  good. 

"  As  for  the  pictures  in  the  Louvre,  tell  Mr.  Beales,  I  am  the 
most  impressed  with  the  two  great  ones  by  Paul  Veronese.  He 
pleases  me  more  than  Rubens,  though  Rubens  is  very  great  here. 
The  1  Marriage  at  Cana '  is  glorious,  and  in  an  admirable  state 
of  preservation.  It  is  filled  with  the  gayest  and  brightest  colours, 
yet  all  in  exquisite  harmony.  The  other,  the  subject  of  which  is 
'  Mary  Magdalene  washing  the  Feet  of  our  Saviour,'  is,  I  think, 
in  its  general  effect,  the  grandest  of  the  two.  It  is  more  solemn 
—  indeed,  there  is  nothing  in  the  Louvre  of  Titian  so  impres- 
sive in  effect.  There  are  two  other  pictures,  by  Paolo,  very 
fine.  One  is  injured,  by  the  sky  having  turned  black  ;  the  other, 
the  subject  of  which  is  '  Esther  before  Ahasuerus,'  is  inimitable, 
but  it  is  hung  too  high.  I  never  saw  fainting  so  well  expressed  as 
in  the  Esther.  The  De  Hooghe,  of  which  the  sketch  hangs  in 
our  bed-room,  is  here.  It  is  fine,  but  I  prefer  the  Queen's  and 
Sir  Robert  Peel's  De  Hooghes.  Tell  Bob,  the  Ruysdael,  of 
which  he  made  a  little  sketch,  is  here.  His  sketch  is  very  like  it 
in  effect.    Nicolas  Poussin  does  not  appear  to  great  advantage  in 


1848.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


339 


his  own  country.  There  are  very  much  finer  pictures,  by  him,  in 
our  National  Gallery,  than  in  the  Louvre." 

TO  MISS  ANNE  LESLIE. 

"  Nov.  22,  1847. 

"  In  September  I  spent  a  most  delightful  fortnight  in  Paris 
with  Harriet  (the  younger),  and  Mary.  We  had  the  finest  of 
weather  (though  some  days  rather  cold),  and  enjoyed  it  to  the 
full ;  and  I  think  it  did  me  great  good.  In  a  dozen  letters  I  could 
not  describe  all  our  enjoyments  and  amusements  there.  Harriet 
will  write  to  you  and  tell  you  something  about  it,  as  she  has  more 
time  than  I.  I  must,  however,  tell  you  that,  on  our  way  back,  we 
spent  a  beautiful  Sunday  morning  at  Amiens,  and  heard  High 
Mass  in  the  cathedral  there,  which  surpasses  everything,  in  archi- 
tectural beauty,  I  saw  in  Belgium.  The  sun  was  shining  bright 
through  the  lofty  windows,  and  the  whole  looked  so  light,  so  ele- 
gant, and  so  sublime,  as  to  seem  scarcely  the  work  of  human 
hands.  I  could  fancy  that  a  company  of  angels  had  been  sent 
down  to  build  it,  and  that  the  exquisite  music  we  were  hearing, 
proceeded  from  a  party  they  had  left  behind  them. 

"  2Uh  Nov.  —  Since  I  wrote  this  letter  I  have  been  elected 
Professor  of  Painting  to  the  Royal  Academy,  by  a  unanimous 
vote. 

"  My  business  will  be  to  deliver  six  lectures  annually,  which 
will  be  rather  an  amusement  than  a  trouble,  and  for  which  I  shall 
receive  £60  — £10  for  each  lecture." 

1848. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(157)  Lady  Jane  Grey. 

"  Most  gentle,  most  unfortunate, 
Crowned  but  to  die ;  who  in  her  chamber  sate, 
Musing  with  Plato,  though  the  horn  was  blown, 
And  every  ear  and  every  heart  was  won, 
And  all  in  green  array  were  chasing  down  the  sun." — Rogers. 
(In  the  possession  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  Preston.) 


340 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1848. 


(162)  The  Shell. 

"  His  countenance  soon 
Brightened  with  joy ;  for  murmurings  from  within 
Were  heard,  sonorous  cadences !  whereby, 
To  his  belief,  the  monitor  expressed 
Mysterious  union  with  his  native  sea." — Wordsworth. 
(Painted  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq.) 

The  references  to  France,  revolution,  and  the  Napoleon  dy- 
nasty, with  the  remarks  on  the  Exhibition  as  compared  with  the 
exhibitions  of  Leslie's  younger  days,  make  the  following  letter  to 
Miss  Anne  Leslie,  worth  inserting.  Never  was  a  man  by  dispo- 
sition less  of  a  "  laudator  temporis  acti  "  than  Leslie.  He  appre- 
ciated all  new  manifestations  of  excellence  in  his  art,  to  a  degree 
very  rare  among  old  Academicians,  and  he  was  the  first  and 
most  generous  among  those  of  his  own  standing  to  recognise  the 
merit  which  gave  value  to  the  early  works  of  the  young  Pre- 
Raphaelite  school. 

"  June  lGth,  1848. 

"  We  are  not  much  afraid  of  a  revolution  here,  though  the 
times  are  very  critical,  and  the  misery  the  French  have  spread 
all  over  their  own  country,  and  indeed  over  the  continent,  will  in 
some  degree  affect  England  and  America.  France  is  infinitely 
worse  off  than  under  the  worst  of  her  former  governments,  and 
must  suffer  a  great  deal  more  before  things  come  right  with  her. 

"  I  dined  yesterday  at  Holland  House,  where  was  Guizot.  He 
speaks  English  very  well,  and  as  I  sat  near  him,  I  heard  all  he 
said.  His  countenance,  though  intelligent,  is  not  an  inviting  one. 
He  looks  hard  and  severe.  He  has  not  laid  aside  his  decorations, 
but  wore  a  red  ribbon  and  one  or  two  orders.  The  last  time  I 
dined  at  Lord  Holland's,  Jerome  Bonaparte  and  his  son  were 
there.  The  son  is  extremely  like  Napoleon,  and  perfectly  con- 
scious of  it.  Jerome  is  not,  neither  is  he  like  Joseph,  who  had 
more  the  look  of  the  Emperor.  If  there  was  now  a  Bonaparte 
with  the  talents  of  Napoleon,  he  might  have  some  chance  with 
the  French  ;  but  I  have  not  heard  that  any  of  them  possess  more 
than  ordinary  abilities." 


1848.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


341 


"  July  26,  1848. 

"  It  is  the  fashion  to  say  that  every  exhibition  is  better  than 
the  last,  a  fashion  I  cannot  fall  into.  I  never  expect  to  see  again 
such  as  I  have  seen,  when  we  had  Lawrence,  Owen,  Jackson, 
Wilkie,  and  Constable.  Turner  sent  nothing  this  year,  and 
talked  of  never  exhibiting  again.  I  hope,  however,  he  will, 
and  often,  for  we  can  ill  afford  to  lose  him. 

"  I  have  sent  to  Tom  and  to  Eliza  impressions  of  an  engraving 
from  a  picture  I  painted  of  the  library  at  Holland  House.  I  for- 
got whether  you  were  ever  in  the  house  when  you  came  here. 
The  present  Lord  Holland  has  made  many  alterations,  and  some 
very  great  improvements  there,  but  he  has  not  yet  touched  the 
library,  and  I  hope  he  will  not.  I  heard  that  he  talked  of  recon- 
verting it  into  a  picture  gallery,  but  I  hope  he  will  not,  for  it  will 
not  make  a  good  one  without  an  expenditure  that  would  almost 
build  a  gallery. 

"  I  have  nearly  finished  my  picture  from  Don  Quixote,  and 
shall  immediately  begin  one  from  Henry  VIII.,  from  which  play 
I  am  to  paint  a  pair." 

"  2,  Abercorn  Place,  St.  John's  Wood, 
"  Nov.  22,  1848. 

"  My  Dear  Irving,  —  I  received  your  letter  by  Mr.  Putnam 
(whom,  however,  I  have  not  seen,  as  he  had  not  time  to  call  on 
me),  and  have  sent  to  him  a  pen  sketch  of  '  Diedrich,'  the  slight- 
ness  of  which  you  must  excuse,  as  I  am  much  engaged,  and  am 
obliged  to  spare  my  eyes  all  I  can,  for  they  are  failing  me.  I  am 
entirely  out  of  practice  in  little  things  of  this  kind,  and  have  no 
doubt  you  will  be  able  to  have  something  done  much  more  to 
your  mind  in  America.  If  so,  pray  throw  it  away  without  scru- 
ple. 

"  I  sent  you  a  letter  a  short  time  ago  by  the  hands  of  '  the 
Dusty,'  containing  a  letter  I  found  in  the  '  London  Magazine '  of 
General  Washington's,  which  seems  to  be  genuine,  and  which  I 
thought  you  might  not  have  seen.  It  shows  that  the  General  had 
a  sense  of  humour,  and  I  believe  no  man  of  very  great  mind  was 
ever  without  it.    Let  me  know  whether  you  received  it." 


342 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1849 


1849. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(Exhibited.)    Scene  from  Henry  VIII. 

Wolsey.  —  "  Here  I'll  make  my  royal  choice." 
King.  —  "  You  have  found  him,  Cardinal." 

Act  i.  Scene  4. 

(Painted  for  I.  K.  Brunei,  Esq.,  and  sold  at  the  sale  of  his  gallery  this 
year  for  £960.) 

(141)  Scene  from  Don  Quixote.  —  (Second  part,  Chapters  31  and  32.) 

The  Dake's  chaplain,  after  attacking  Don  Quixote  for  his  devotion  to 
knight  errantry,  and  Sancho  for  his  belief  in  his  master,  reprimands  the 
Duke  for  encouraging  their  fancies,  and  leaves  the  company  in  a  passion. 
(Painted  for  Joshua  Bates,  Esq.) 
(Not  exhibited.)    The  Necklace.    (In  the  National  Collection.)  Repetition 
—  an  oval  with  a  locket — in  the  possession  of  Richard  Newsham,  Esq. — 
Sophia  Western.    (Repeated.)  —  Lady  with  Scarlet  Geranium  in 
her  Hand.    (Painted  for  C.  Constable,  Esq.)  —  Captain  and  Mrs.  Mor- 
gan and  Children.    (Painted  for  Captain  E.  E.  Morgan,  New  York.) 

His  brother,  Captain  Leslie,  had  lost  his  wife.  Leslie  writes 
to  his  sister  on  the  occasion :  — 

"  March  21th,  1849. 

"  I  have  been  so  incessantly  occupied  with  my  lectures  at  the 
Academy,  in  addition  to  my  regular  occupations,  that  I  have  been 
unable  to  write  to  you.  The  sad  intelligence  your  last  letter  con- 
tained, came  on  us  quite  by  surprise.  I  had  heard  lately  from  Cap- 
tain Morgan,  that  dear  Tom  and  his  family  were  quite  well.  I  feel 
a  strong  repugnance  always  to  writing  letters  of  condolence,  and 
have  determined,  therefore,  for  the  present  not  to  write  to  Tom  ; 
as,  if  I  could  see  him,  I  should  not  speak  to  him  on  the  subject 
of  his  great  loss,  unless  he  spoke  of  it  first  to  me.  Give  my 
love  and  best  wishes  to  him  when  you  see  him.  I  always  look 
on  death  as  a  calamity  only  to  the  survivor,  for  I  am  sure  that 
God  takes  us  all  whenever  it  is  best  for  us.  I  shall  exhibit  two 
pictures  this  season :  a  large  one  from  '  Don  Quixote,'  painted  for 
Mr.  Bates,  and  a  small  one,  with  many  figures,  from  '  Henry 
VIII.,'  painted  for  Braddy's  master,  Mr.  Brunei.    Robert  has 


1850.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


343 


painted  two  views  from  the  Isle  of  Jersey,  which  he  visited  last 
summer.  The  last  is  his  best  picture,  and  I  think  he  regularly 
improves.  I  am  now  painting  a  scene  from  '  Tom  Jones,'  near 
the  close  of  the  story.  Tom  is  showing  Sophia  Western  her  own 
face  in  a  looking-glass  as  a  pledge  for  his  good  behaviour  after 
marriage.  I  have  sent  two  small  pictures  lately  to  Mr.  Lenox, 
and  shall  soon  send  him  another.  By  Captain  Lord  I  will  send 
you  my  last  lectures.  I  wrote  four  new  ones,  and  all  are  printed 
in  the  '  Athenaeum.' " 

"  Dec.  27,  1849. 

"  I  am  busy  with  a  small  picture  from  Shakespeare  —  the  dy- 
ing scene  of  Katherine  of  Arragon.  It  is  for  Mr.  Brunei,  and  is 
a  companion  to  the  one  I  painted  for  him  last  year  of  '  Henry 
VIII.  and  Anne  Boleyn.'  It  is  nearly  finished,  and  I  shall  then 
begin  a  large  one  of  Falstaff  acting  the  part  of  the  King. 

"  Have  you  read  Macaulay's  History  ?  It  is  as  entertaining  as 
a  novel ;  but  no  doubt  the  truth  is  greatly  distorted  by  his  polit- 
ical and  other  opinions.  What  will  the  Philadelphians  say  to  his 
character  of  William  Penn  ?  I  have  no  doubt  he  has  done  him 
great  injustice." 

1850. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Beatrice. 

"  Look  where  Beatrice,  like  a  lapwing,  runs  close  to  the  ground." 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  iii.  Scene  1. 
(Painted  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq.,  Begent's  Park,  and  twice  repeated.) 
(121   Tom  Jones  showing  to  Sophia  Western  herself,  as  her  best 
security  for  his  good  behaviour. 

"  If  I  am  to  judge,"  said  she,  "  of  the  future  by  the  past,  my  image 
will  no  more  remain  in  your  heart  when  I  am  out  of  your  sight,  than  it 
will  on  this  glass  when  I  am  out  of  the  room." 

History  of  a  Foundling,  Book  xviii.  c.  12. 
(A  repetition  of  the  picture  of  1849,  painted  for  John  Harris,  Esq., 
Prince's  Gate,  London.) 
v135)  Scene  from  Henry  VIII. 

Katherine.  —  "  Sir,  I  most  humbly  pray  you  to  deliver 
This  to  my  lord  the  King, 


344 


EXTKACTS  FROM 


[1850 


In  which  I  have  commended  to  his  goodness 

The  model  of  our  chaste  loves,  his  young  daughter, 

Beseeching  him  to  give  her  virtuous  breeding, 

*  *      *      *      *      and  a  little 

To  love  her  for  her  mother's  sake,  that  loved  him 
Heaven  knows  how  dearly.    My  next  poor  petition 
Is,  that  his  noble  Grace  would  have  some  pity 
Upon  my  wretched  women,  that  so  long 
Have  followed  both  my  fortunes  faithfully. 

*  *      *      *    *  *      *      *  * 
The  last  is,  for  my  men.    They  are  the  poorest, 
But  poverty  never  could  draw  them  from  me. 

*  *       *       *       And,  good  my  lord, 

As  you  wish  Christian  peace  to  souls  departed, 
Stand  these  poor  people's  friend,  and  urge  the  King 
To  do  me  this  last  right." 
Capucius.  "  By  heaven,  I  will ; 

Or  let  me  lose  the  fashion  of  a  man !  " 

Act  iv.  Scene  2. 

(Painted  for  Isambard  K.  Brunei,  Esq.,  F.R.S.,  and  sold  at  the  sale  of 
his  pictures  this  year  for  800?.*  Repeated  smaller,  and  in  the  possession 
of  John  Nay  lor,  Esq.,  Leigh  ton  Hall,  near  Welshpool.) 

This  year  Miss  Anne  Leslie  visited  her  brother  in  London, 
and  Leslie  lost  his  brother-in-law,  and  old  schoolfellow,  Mr.  De 
Charms.    He  writes  on  the  occasion  to  Miss  Leslie. 

(Sept.  80th,  1850.) 

"  I  remember  him  about  1804  one  of  the  head  boys,  and  one 
of  the  very  best  in  Dr.  Rogers's  school.  How  little  likelihood 
was  there  at  that  time  of  our  future  course  of  life  as  it  has 
happened  —  that  we  should  some  twenty  years  afterwards  have 
married  sisters  in  this  country  !  De  Charms  was  respected  as  a 
boy  by  all  the  boys  in  the  school,  and  I  am  sure  he  was  loved 
by  Dr.  Rogers,  and  he  has  passed  through  life  respected  and 
esteemed  by  those  who  knew  him.  *  *  I  feel  sure  that  in  every 
relation  of  life  he  invariably  did  that  which  he  considered  it  his 
duty  to  do.  Still,  after  all,  we  are  very  imperfect  judges  even  of 
those  we  live  most  with.  Our  real  characters  are  known  only  tc 
God  ;  we  do  not  even  know  them  ourselves." 

*  This  was  the  amount  of  Mr.  Brunei's  commission  for  this  picture,  and  its 
companion  from  the  same  play,  which  realised  950Z.  At  the  same  sale,  Sii 
Edwin  Landseer's  '  Titania  and  Bottom,'  for  which  he  received  AbOl.  from  Mr. 
Brunei,  was  sold  for  2800/.  —  Ed. 


1851.] 


LESLIE'S  COKRESPONDENCE. 


345 


1851. 

Pictures  of  the  Tear. 

(Exhibited.)    A  Study. 

(140)  Falstaff  personating  the  King. 

Hostess.  —  "  0,  the  father,  how  he  holds  his  countenance !  " 
Falstaff.  —  *  *■  *  "  Harry,  I  do  not  only  marvel  where  thou  spend- 
est  thy  time,  but  also  how  thou  art  accompanied;  for  though  the  camo- 
mile, the  more  it  is  trodden  on,  the  faster  it  grows;  yet  youth,  the  more 
it  is  wasted,  the  sooner  it  wears.  That  thou  art  my  son,  I  have  partly 
thy  mother's  word,  partly  my  own  opinion;  but  chiefly  a  villainous  trick 
of  thine  eye,  and  a  foolish  hanging  of  thy  nether  lip,  that  doth  warrant 
me.  If  then  thou  be  son  to  me,  here  lies  the  point —  Why,  being  son  to 
me,  art  thou  so  pointed  at?  " 

First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  ii.  Scene  4. 
(Painted  for  John  Harris,  Esq.,  Prince's  Gate.) 
(Not  exhibited.)    A  Group  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland's  Tenants 
at  Stanwick.    (Painted  for  the  Duke.) 


TO  MISS  ANNE  LESLIE. 

May  mh,  1851. 

I  am  very  busy  with  a  large  picture  from  4  The  Rape  of  the 
Lock '  for  Mr.  Gibbons,  and  am  indeed  overwhelmed  with  com- 
missions. I  wish  I  could  transfer  some  of  them  to  Robert ;  but 
he  must  bide  his  time.  He  has  wonderfully  improved  within  the 
last  year,  and  I  have  no  fear  of  his  ultimate  success.  He  has 
taken  a  house  near  us,  in  Northwick  Terrace,  and  he,  Jane,  and 
the  baby,  are  all  very  well ;  the  last  of  the  three  generally  comes 
to  see  us  once  a  day,  and  is  most  engaging.  I  have  also  been 
from  home.  The  Duke  of  Northumberland,  whom  I  have  known 
for  some  years,  having  met  him  at  Mr.  Rogers's  when  he  was 
Lord  Prudhoe,  asked  me  to  make  some  sketches  for  him  of  some 
of  his  old  servants  at  Stanwick,  in  the  north  of  Yorkshire,  where 
he  spends  most  of  his  time,  and  I  passed  ten  days  there  with  him 
and  the  Duchess.  You  know  how  pleasant  he  can  be,  and  I  found 
him  always  the  same.  The  Duchess,  too,  is  very  agreeable.  You, 
perhaps,  know  that  she  is  a  daughter  of  the  Marquis  of  Westmin- 


346 


EXTRACTS  FEOM 


[1851. 


ster.  I  painted  her  when  she  was  a  child,  in  the  family  picture 
of  her  grandfather,  the  late  Marquis." 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

May  18th,  1851. 

I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  long  a  time  I  have  suffered  to 
pass  without  writing  to  you,  and  I  have  only  the  old  bad  excuse 
to  offer  of  dislike  to  letter  writing,  even  to  those  for  whom  I  have 
the  greatest  affection,  with  the  somewhat  better  apology  of  in- 
creasing weakness  of  my  eyes,  which  makes  it  important  to  me  to 
save  them  as  much  as  I  can  for  painting.  I  now  must  not  read 
or  write  by  candlelight,  and  the  little  time  I  can  spare  in  the  day 
for  letters  is  consumed  very  much  by  notes,  which  I  must  write, 
and  often  on  business  with  which  I  have  little  concern.  I  have 
nothing  of  consequence  to  tell  you  of  ourselves  ;  we  are  going  on 
as  usual.  I  am  very  busy  with  a  large  picture  from  '  The  Rape 
of  the  Lock  ; '  and  if  I  have  my  health  and  strength  for  a  few 
years  longer,  I  shall  be  able  to  save  some  money  for  my  family, 
as  I  have  pictures  engaged  at  my  own  prices  for  ten  years  to  come. 
The  increase  of  the  private  patronage  of  Art  in  this  country  is 
surprising.  Almost  every  day  I  hear  of  some  man  of  fortune, 
whose  name  is  unknown  to  me,  who  is  forming  a  collection  of  the 
works  of  living  painters  ;  and  they  are  all  either  men  in  business, 
or  who  have  made  fortunes  in  business  and  retired.  Nothing  can 
more  strikingly  display  the  resources  and  wealth  of  this  country 
than  the  gigantic  scheme  that  has  been  so  successfully  carried 
out,  and  with  such  wonderful  rapidity,  in  Hyde  Park.  The  influx 
of  visitors  to  London  has  not  yet,  however,  been  so  great  as  was 
expected.  It  will,  no  doubt,  increase,  but  I  do  not  think  there  is 
any  danger  of  any  one  of  the  evils  that  have  been  predicted  from 
the  concourse  of  foreigners  or  country  visitors  in  London.  Fam- 
ine, pestilence,  and  revolution,  were  the  foremost  of  these ;  but, 
for  the  present,  the  only  effect  on  the  state  of  the  metropolis  pro- 
duced by  the  Great  Exhibition  is  that  the  shops,  the  theatres,  and 
other  places  of  amusement  have  been,  in  a  degree,  deserted  for  it. 


1852.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


347 


1852. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(Exhibited.)  Juliet. 

"  What  if  it  be  a  poison,  which  the  friar 
Subtly  hath  minister'd  to  have  me  dead; 
Lest  in  this  marriage  he  should  be  dishonour'd 
Because  he  married  me  before  to  Romeo? 
I  fear,  it  is ;  and  yet,  methinks  it  should  not, 
For  he  hath  still  been  tried  a  holy  man: 
I  will  not  entertain  so  base  a  thought." 

Borneo  and  Juliet,  Act  iv.  Scene.  3. 
(Twice  repeated;  one  repetition  is  in  the  possession  of  Richard  News- 
ham,  Esq., 

(Not  exhibited.)  Girl,  holding  a  Dove.  (In  the  collection  of  Thomas 
Miller,  Esq.,  Preston.)  —  Girl  Reading.  (In  the  possession  of  Edwin 
Bullock,  Esq.,  Handsworth,  near  Birmingham.  Repeated.) 


TO  W.  IRVING. 

Abercorn  Place,  St.  John's  Wood, 
London,  Jan.  18th,  1852. 

Why  do  you  never  write  to  me?  I  have  not  heard  whether 
you  received  a  copy  of  a  note  written  by  Gen.  Washington,  which 
I  found  in  an  old  magazine,  or  a  sketch  I  sent  by  Mr.  Putnam 
(at  your  request)  of  Diedrich  Knickerbocker.  I  hear  frequently 
of  you,  and  that  you  are  well  and  happy  in  your  beautiful  retreat. 
I  shall  never  cease  regretting  that  I  could  not  have  visited  you,  as 
you  kindly  proposed,  when  you  were  at  Madrid.  But  it  was 
literally  out  of  my  power,  and  I  doubt  now  if  I  shall  ever  see 
Spain,  or  even  Italy,  which  of  all  places  in  the  world  I  most  wish 
to  visit. 

TO  MISS  ANNE  LESLIE. 

May  9,  1852. 

This  spring  I  have  been  more  than  usually  engaged,  being 
on  the  Council  of  the  Academy,  and  having  to  assist  in  arranging 


348 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1852. 


the  Exhibition.  I  really  expected  to  be  quite  knocked  up  by  this, 
but  have  got  through  it  better  than  I  hoped.  It  is  not  a  good 
Exhibition,  many  of  the  principal  artists,  among  them  E.  Land- 
seer,  having  nothing  there.  I  did  not  get  my  large  picture  from 
the  '  Rape  of  the  Lock '  ready,  and  have  only  sent  a  small  one 
of  '  Juliet.' 

Hampton,  Aug.  29,  1852. 

I  am  quietly  out  of  town,  and  enjoying  myself  very  greatly 
at  this  beautiful  place.  We  are  about  a  mile  from  Hampton 
Court,  where  George  and  I  go  every  morning.  He  is  copying 
pictures  in  the  palace,  and  I  have  my  '  Rape  of  the  Lock '  there, 
where  I  am  painting  the  background,  perhaps  in  the  very  room 
where  the  scene  of  my  picture  occurred. 

The  weather  is  perfection,  and  we  stay  till  the  end  of  Sep- 
tember. 

TO  W.  IRVING. 

Hampton,  Aug.  29,  1852. 

Since  I  received  your  letter  of  the  25th  May,  I  have  had  no 
time  to  answer  it  till  now,  for  I  am  subject  to  many  such  inter- 
ruptions as  you  complain  of,  and  I  dare  not  use  my  eyes  at  night. 
I  think  often  of  you,  and  long  for  your  '  Life  of  Washington/ 
which  I  trust  I  may  soon  see,  though  you  say  nothing  about  it.  I 
was  much  interested  by  your  account  of  your  "  happy  home  "  at 
Sunnyside,  with  all  your  habits  and  occupations  there  ;  and  I  will 
tell  you  how  I  am  living  just  now  at  this  beautiful  place.  We 
have  taken  a  house  from  the  beginning  of  this  month  to  the  end 
of  September,  close  to  Garrick's  Villa,  which  you  may  remember 
as  beautifully  situated  on  the  river  about  a  mile  above  Hampton 
Court.  The  weather  has  been  delightful  ever  since  we  have  been 
here,  and  promises  to  continue  so. 

I  am  painting  a  large  picture  from  '  The  Rape  of  the  Lock,' 
containing  fourteen  or  fifteen  figures.  I  have  taken  the  moment 
in  which  Sir  Plume  is  desiring  the  Baron  to  return  the  lock 
Belinda  is  in  the  foreground  crying,  and  surrounded  by  ladies, 
and  the  group  of  gentlemen  further  in  the  picture.    As  the  back- 


1853-4.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


349 


ground  represents  a  room  in  the  palace,  I  am  finishing  the  picture 
there.  I  can  paint  at  the  palace  for  two  or  three  hours  each 
morning,  uninterrupted  by  visitors,  and  on  Friday,  when  it  is 
closed  to  the  public,  the  whole  day. 

I  generally  go  from  here  in  a  boat,  and  my  two  girls,  who 
spend  much  of  their  time  on  the  water,  row  me  back  about  one 
o'clock.  We  dine  early  and  spend  the  afternoon  either  on  the 
water,  or  in  the  Palace  gardens,  or  Bushy  Park,  and  sometimes  at 
Richmond,  and  to  me  there  cannot  be  a  more  luxurious  life,  with 
such  perfect  weather  as  we  are  enjoying.  My  eldest  son  is  in 
Devonshire  with  his  wife  and  two  children.  My  second  son, 
Bradford,  is  working  for  Mr.  Brunei  at  a  railway  bridge  at 
Chepstow,  and  the  rest  of  us  are  here.  We  were  a  little  uneasy 
lately  respecting  the  English  and  American  fisheries,  but  I  hope 
all  such  disputes  between  the  two  countries  will  be  got  over 
without  a  war. 

1853. 

Leslie  exhibited  no  pictures  at  the  Royal  Academy  this  year. 
(Not  exhibited.)    Slender,  with  the  assistance  of  Shallow,  Courting 
Anne  Page.    (Repetition  of  his  early  picture  of  1825.   Repeated  smaller, 
and  in  the  possession  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.) 

TO  MISS  A.  LESLIE. 

Oct.  20,  1858. 

I  am  painting  a  large  picture  from  Mr.  Lenox's  subject  of 
Our  Saviour  calling  the  Little  Child,  with  alterations,  and  I  hope 
improvements. 

He  sent  me  an  admirable  Daguerreotype  of  his  picture, 
which  is  of  the  greatest  use  to  me. 

1854. 

Pictures  of  the  Year, 

(Exhibited.)   A  Present. —(Painted  for  W.  C.  Sole,  Esq.)    Portrait  or 
Mrs.  W.  S.  Sole. 


350 


EXTEACTS  FROM 


[1854. 


Scene  from  "  The  Rape  op  the  Lock." 

Sir  Plume  demands  the  restoration  of  the  lock. 
M  (Sir  Plume  of  amber  snuff  box  justly  vain, 

And  the  nice  conduct  of  a  clouded  cane) 

With  earnest  eyes,  and  round  unthinking  face, 

He  first  the  snuff  box  open'd,  then  the  case. 

#      •   *         *         *         *  * 

It  grieves  me  much  (replied  the  Peer  again) 

Who  speaks  so  well,  should  ever  speak  in  vain; 

But  by  this  lock,  this  sacred  lock,  I  swear 

(Which  never  more  shall  join  its  parted  hair; 

Which  never  more  its  honours  shall  renew, 

Clipp'd  from  the  lovely  head  where  late  it  grew);  1 
'         That  while  my  nostrils  draw  the  vital  air, 

This  hand,  which  won  it,  shall  for  ever  wear. 

He  spoke,  and  speaking,  in  proud  triumph  spread 

The  long-contended  honours  of  her  head." 

(Not  exhibited.)   Portrait  of  John  Everett  Millais,  Esq.,  A.R.A.— 
View  of  the  Thames  at  Hampton  —  Moonlight. 

(Both  sold  at  the  painter's  sale.) 


TO  W.  IRVING. 

May  lSth,  1854. 

Of  the  old  set  of  our  mutual  friends  here,  I  do  not  know  that 
any  are  remaining  but  Peter  Powell,  Buskin  (J.  Russell),  and 
Mr.  Rogers.  Peter  is  wonderful  for  his  age,  and  still  performs 
in  private.  He  is  coming  here  on  the  1st  of  June  to  a  dance. 
Buskin  is  still  trying  to  get  a  good  theatrical  engagement,  but 
does  not  succeed.  He  reads  Shakespeare  to  schools,  and  gets 
something  thereby.  But  Mr.  Rogers  is  truly  wonderful.  He  is 
ninety-one,  and  is  not  aware  of  any  disorder  or  ailing  whatever. 
His  memory  fails  him  a  little,  but  he  is  still  pleasant,  and  has 
company  every  morning  to  breakfast,  and  often  to  dinner  and  tea. 
He  has  not  attempted  to  use  his  legs  since  the  accident  he  met 
with  a  few  years  ago,  by  which  he  broke  his  thigh  bone,  but  he 
drives  out  every  day  in  his  carriage  and  often  calls  on  us.  Miss 
Rogers  is  not  so  well  in  health  as  her  brother,  but  her  memory  is 
still  unimpaired.  They  visit  each  other  daily,  and  she  often 
breakfasts  and  takes  tea  with  him.  I  am  better  than  I  have  been 
for  the  last  few  years,  thanks  to  Mr.  Travers  and  the  care  he  has 
taught  me  to  take  of  myself. 


1856.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


351 


When  you  can  find  time  pray  write  to  me.  I  very  much 
want  a  'Life  of  Washington.'    When  shall  I  have  yours? 


1855. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(Exhibited.)    Sancho  Panza  and  Don  Pedro  Rezio. 

"  Then,"  quoth  Sancho,  "  that  great  dish  that  stands  fuming  there  before 
me,  methinks  'tis  an  olla  podrida,  and  by  reason  of  the  diversities  of  things 
it  hath  in  it,  I  cannot  but  meet  with  something  that  will  do  me  good." 

"  Absit,"  quoth  the  physician,  "  Far  be  such  an  ill  thought  from  U3 
There  is  nothing  that  worse  nourisheth  than  an  olla  podrida,  fit  only  for 
your  prebends  and  rectors  of  colleges,  or  your  country  marriages.  Let  your 
Governor's  tables  be  without  them.  And  the  reason  is,  because  always, 
and  wheresoever,  and  by  whomsoever,  your  simple  medicines  are  in  more 
request  than  your  compounds ;  because  in  simples  there  can  be  no  error,  in 
compounds  there  are  many,  altering  the  quantity  of  things  of  which  they 
are  composed.  But  what  I  know  is  fit  for  the  Governor  to  eat  at  present, 
to  preserve  his  health  and  to  corroborate  it,  is  some  hundred  of  little  hollow 
wafers,  and  a  pretty  slice  or  two  of  quince  marmalade,  that  may  settle 
his  stomach,  and  help  his  digestion." 

When  Sancho  heard  this,  he  leaned  himself  to  the  back  of  his  chair,  and 
by  fits  now  and  then  looked  at  the  physician,  and  with  a  grave  voice  asked 
him  his  name,  and  where  he  had  studied. 

Don  Quixote,  Part  ii.  Chap.  47. 

(Painted  for  Lady  Chantry.) 
(Not  exhibited.)  Olivia,  Twelfth  Night.  (Repeated.)  —  The  Late  Duke 
of  Wellington  Looking  at  a  Bust  of  Washington.  (Painted  for 
Miss  Burdett  Coutts ;  repetition  painted  for  the  Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence  of 
Boston,  U.  S.)  —  The  late  Duke  and  present  Duchess  of  Welling- 
ton on  the  Staircase  of  Buckingham  Palace.  (Painted  for  Miss 
Burdett  Coutts.) 

In  this  year  Leslie  published  the  substance  of  his  Academy 
Lectures,  with  additions,  under  the  title  of  '  A  Handbook  for 
Young  Painters.'  The  composition  and  revision  of  it  had  occu- 
pied the  latter  part  of  1854. 

1856. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

(Exhibited.)   (144)  Hermione.   (Painted  for  I.  K.  Brunei,  Esq.,  F.R.S.  Re- 
peated.) 


352 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1857. 


(Not  exhibited.)  A  repetition,  with  alterations,  from  "  The  Rape  of  the 
Lock."  (Painted  for  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq.,  Handsworth,  near  Birming- 
ham.) —  The  Opera  Box.    (Painted  for  E.  Bullock,  Esq.) 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

February  lOZft,  1856. 

The  infirmities  of  age  are  now  coming  upon  me,  and  I  am 
obliged  to  be  very  careful  of  myself.  Still  I  was  able  to  go  to 
Paris  for  about  ten  days  in  November  last.  The  improvements 
there  since  Louis  Napoleon  has  made  himself  emperor,  are  truly 
wonderful.  Whatever  may  be  his  moral  character,  it  certainly 
seems  greatly  for  the  good  of  France  that  he  is  on  the  throne ; 
where  it  may  be  hoped  he  will  long  remain.  I  hope  we  shall 
now  be  at  peace  with  Russia,  and  I  hope  we  shall  not  get  into  a 
war  with  America.  But  political  affairs  have  of  late  years  so 
entirely  baffled  all  calculation,  that  it  is  impossible  to  guess  to-day 
what  may  happen  to-morrow. 

1857. 

Picture  of  the  Year. 

Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  in  Church. 

"  As  Sir  Roger  is  landlord  to  the  whole  congregation,  he  keeps  them  in 
very  good  order,  and  will  suffer  nobody  to  sleep  in  it  besides  himself;  for, 
if  by  chance  he  has  been  surprised  into  a  short  nap  at  sermon,  upon  re- 
covering out  of  it  he  stands  up  and  looks  about  him,  and  if  he  sees  any- 
body else  nodding  either  wakes  them  himself,  or  sends  his  servants  to 
them."  —  Spectator,  No.  112. 
(Painted  for  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  Preston.) 

These  later  years  furnish  nothing  to  record  of  the  painter  but 
constant  work,  and  affectionate  interchange  of  recollections  with 
the  American  branches  of  his  family.  Early  in  1857  his  daugh- 
ter Caroline  was  married  to  Mr.  Fletcher,  under  the  fairest 
auspices,  soon  belied,  alas,  by  her  premature  death,  in  March, 
1859. 

Here  is  the  last  glimpse  of  the  painter  which  his  correspond- 
ence gives  us.  It  is  a  sunny  one ;  and  leaves  such  an  image  of 
the  man  as  best  fits  his  life  and  tastes,  —  surrounded  by  his  family, 


1857.] 


LESLIE'S  CORRESPONDENCE. 


353 


rambling  in  the  chestnut  shades  of  Bushey  Park,  feeding  the 
deer  that  came  fearlessly  to  his  kindly  hand,  painting  the  back- 
ground of  his  "  Jeanie  Deans  "  in  the  green  avenues  of  Hamp- 
ton Court  Garden,  and  copying  from  his  beloved  Cartoons. 

TO  MISS  LESLIE. 

Hampton  Court,  July  192/i,  1857. 
We  have  been  here  (that  is,  my  wife,  and  I,  and  Mary),  for 
the  last  seven  weeks,  and  expect  to  remain  two  weeks  longer. 
Harriet,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fletcher,  and  George,  are  now  here  with 
us.  I  came  to  paint  from  nature,  the  background  to  a  picture  I 
am  engaged  on,  of  '  Jeanie  Deans'  interview  with  Queen  Char- 
lotte.' We  have  had  so  far  a  very  fine  summer,  sometimes' 
rather  too  warm,  and  nothing  can  be  more  lovely  than  this  place. 
We  are  in  a  small  house,  the  back  windows  of  which  look  into 
Bushey  Park,  and  the  deer  come  to  the  windows  and  feed  out 
of  our  hands.  We  are  very  close  to  the  Palace,  the  gardens  of 
which  are,  to  my  mind,  the  most  beautiful  I  ever  saw.  Besides 
the  background  of  my  picture,  which  I  am  painting  from  one  of 
the  stately  avenues  of  trees  in  the  park,  I  am  copying  one  of 
Raphael's  Cartoons  in  the  Palace  — 1  The  Miraculous  Draught 
of  Fishes.' 

Nothing  can  be  more  delightful  than  this  sort  of  occupation  ; 
and  if  I  had  myself  only  to  consider,  I  should  be  perfectly  happy. 
But  I  am  sorry  to  say,  Caroline  is  still  very  delicate,  and  has 
been  so  since  her  marriage.  She  has  the  best  of  husbands,  and 
has  no  earthly  want  but  health.  We  think,  however,  that  she  has 
gained  strength  since  she  has  been  here,  and  when  the  rest  of  us 
return  to  town,  she  and  Mr.  Fletcher  will  probably  go  somewhere 
to  the  sea-side,  and  Harriet  with  them. 

George  is  a  very  good  boy,  and  is  getting  on  very  well  as  a 
painter.  He  sold  a  little  picture  lately  to  Mr.  Monckton  Milnes, 
who  has  taken  a  good  deal  of  notice  of  him,  asking  him  to  dine, 
&c,  and  he  is  going  in  a  few  days  to  Bristol,  to  copy  a  picture 
for  an  American  gentleman. 

Robert  still  lives  in  Devonshire,  and  was  very  well  when  we 
last  heard  from  him.    Braddy  is  married,  and  has  a  very  nice 

23 


354 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1858-9. 


little  girl.  He  is  working  very  hard  with  Mr.  Brunei,  who  seems 
to  appreciate  his  abilities,  which  are  not  small.  Such  is  our  his- 
tory to  the  present  time. 

For  two  years  after  this,  Leslie's  pictures  adorned  the  walls  of 
the  Royal  Academy  exhibition-rooms.  The  trace  of  declining 
powers  was  upon  them,  but  they  had  still  his  unfailing  grace  and 
sweetness  of  sentiment.  His  lees  were  better  than  the  first  run- 
nings of  many  a  more  ambitious  painter. 

1858. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Christ  rebuking  his  Disciples  by  calling  the  Little  Child. 

St.  Mark  ix.  33-35. 

A  repetition,  but  larger  than  the  first  picture  of  the  same  subject,  and  with  alter- 
ations.   (Painted  for  Henry  Vaughan,  Esq.) 

Lady  in  White  Hood.  (A  Study  for  the  Queen  Caroline  in  the  "  Jeanie 
Deans"  picture.  Painted  for  J.  Birt,  Esq.,  now  in  the  possession  of  John 
Nay  lor,  Esq.) 

1859. 

Pictures  of  the  Year. 

Hotspur  and  Lady  Percy. 

Lady.  —  "  What  is  it  carries  you  away?  " 
Hotspur.  —  "  Why,  my  horse,  my  love,  my  horse." 

First  Part  of  Henry  IV.,  Act  ii.  Scene  3. 
(Painted  for  Joseph  Miller,  Esq.,  Virginia,  U.  S.) 
(211.)  Jeanie  Deans  and  Queen  Caroline. 

"  Tear  followed  tear  down  Jeanie's  cheeks,  as,  her  features  glowing  and 
quivering  with  emotion,  she  pleaded  her  sister's  cause  with  a  pathos  which 
was  at  once  simple  and  solemn." 

Heart  of  Midlothian,  vol.  ii.  ch.  21. 
(Painted  for  J.  Birt,  Esq.,  now  in  the  collection  of  John  Nay  lor,  Esq.) 

The  day  after  the  Academy  opened  its  doors,  while  the  public 
were  still  crowding  round  these  two  pictures,  —  one  remarking, 
perhaps,  "  Leslie  is  falling  off,"  to  which  a  more  thoughtful  spec- 
tator might  have  responded,  by  pointing  out  the  good  taste, 
beauty  and  sentiment  which  still  reigned  through  even  these 


1859.] 


LESLIE'S  COKKESPONDENCE. 


355 


less  vigorous  works  —  the  painter  lay  dead  and  cold  amid  the 
unutterable  grief  of  the  wife  who  had  lived  a  life  of  unclouded 
happiness  with  him  for  three  and  thirty  years,  and  the  chil- 
dren who  had  been  so  near  his  heart,  and  who  had  loved  in 
him  the  most  thoughtful,  self-sacrificing,  and  tenderest  of  fathers. 

He  only  survived  his  much  loved  daughter  Caroline  by  two 
months. 

His  illness  was  not  of  long  duration.  He  was  first  sensible  of 
it  during  a  visit  to  Petworth,  to  which  he  had  repaired  for  change 
of  scene  and  distraction  of  mind  after  the  first  shock  of  his 
daughter's  death.  He  went  thence  to  Worthing,  but  finding 
himself  worse  returned  home,  when,  notwithstanding  the  utmost 
attention  from  his  friends,  Dr.  Williams,  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie, 
and  Mr.  Partridge,  he  gradually  sank,  and  died  tranquilly  on  the 
5th  of  May.  The  disease  was  pronounced  to  be  one  of  the  liver. 
His  love  of  art,  his  son  George  informs  me,  seemed  to  grow 
stronger  as  he  approached  his  end.  He.  expressed  to  his  family 
his  delight  at  finding  his  illness  did  not  affect  his  eye  for  colour. 
He  had  several  of  his  favourite  pictures  placed,  so  that  he  could 
see  them  from  his  bed  ;  and  his  son  remarks,  he  never  saw  him 
enjoy  anything  more  keenly  than  he  did  some  of  his  friend  Mr. 
Thurston  Thompson's  photographs  from  the  cartoons  of  RafFaele. 

Leslie  had  long  looked  death  in  the  face,  and  met  its  approach 
with  the  calm  faith  in  God  and  Christ  which  is  apparent  in  all  I 
find  expressed  of  his  sentiments  upon  religion.  These  are  not 
unimportant  elements  in  forming  our  judgment  of  a  man.  I  do 
not  know  that  I  can  more  appropriately  close  this  selection  from 
Leslie's  letters,  than  by  the  following  extracts  bearing  upon  this 
matter. 

(From  a  letter  to  his  wife.) 

"  Cadge  *  and  I  went  this  morning  to  the  Foundling.  The 
day  is  lovely,  and  the  little  pets  there  looked  lovely.  While 
sitting  in  church,  a  thought  passed  in  my  mind  which  might  sug- 
gest a  sermon,  though,  I  dare  say,  it  has  occurred  to  many  others, 
and  may  have  been  used  by  preachers,  though  I  have  not  heard 
*  His  daughter  Caroline. 


356 


EXTRACTS  FROM 


[1859. 


it.  I  thought,  what  must  be  the  impression  on  any  person  of 
matured  mind  who,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  should  read  the 
sayings  of  our  Saviour.  We  are  accustomed  to  them  from  our 
infancy,  and  having  first  heard  them  read  at  a  time  when  we  are 
quite  incapable  of  understanding  their  weight  and  value,  it  is 
hardly  possible  for  us  to  be  impressed  by  them  as  those  must 
have  been  who  lived  when  he  lived.  His  answer,  for  instance, 
when  the  woman  taken  in  adultery  was  brought  before  him  ; 
when  the  tribute  money  was  shown  to  him  ;  when  the  rich  man 
asked  what  he  should  do  to  go  to  Heaven ;  and  when  the  disciples 
disputed  who  should  be  greatest  in  Heaven.  Then  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  parables,  and  his  last  af- 
fecting discourse  to  his  disciples.  If  we  could  imagine  ourselves 
(for  a  moment)  to  be  the  persons  who  first  heard  such  things 
said,  how  truly  should  we  feel  that  '  never  man  spake  like  this 
man  ; '  and  how  well  should  we  understand  what  the  two  disci- 
ples felt,  when  they  said,  (  Did  not  our  hearts  burn  within  us 
while  he  spoke  ! '  But  familiarity  with  these  precious  sayings 
from  our  infancy,  prevents  their  ever  making  the  vivid  impres- 
sion on  us,  which  they  must  have  made  when  uttered,  and  there- 
fore I  believe  it  is  that  God  permits  different  estimates  of  Christ's 
character  to  exist  in  the  world,  that  our  attention  may  be  con- 
stantly drawn  to  it  by  discussion.  For  my  own  part,  nothing 
can  alter  my  conviction,  that  if  ever  Divine  truth  was  uttered  in 
this  world  it  was  by  his  lips." 

(On  a  slip  of  paper  attached  to  his  will.) 

"  I  trust  I  may  die  as  I  now  am,  in  the  entire  belief  of  the 
Christian  religion,  as  I  understand  it  from  the  books  of  the  New- 
Testament,  that  is,-  as  a  direct  revelation  of  the  will  and  good- 
ness of  God  towards  this  world,  by  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour 
and  Judge  of  the  world.  In  full  reliance  on  the  special  provi- 
dence of  God,  I  feel  sure  that  whenever,  and  by  whatever  means, 
I  die,  will  be  the  best  for  me  ;  and  I  trust  this  belief  will  always 
make  me  patient  and  submissive  to  the  will  of  God,  feeling  sure 
that  there  is  no  real  evil  but  sin,  from  which  I  pray  God  to  deliver 
all  of  us  now  and  hereafter." 


APPENDIX. 


LIST  OF  THE  PRINCIPAL  PICTURES  PAINTED,  AND  OF  ALL  THE 
PICTURES  EXHIBITED  BY  C.  R.  LESLIE,  R.A. 


Those  marked*  were  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  at  the  date  prefixed. 


1812.     Early  Portraits.    (See  Correspondence.) 
1813*   Murder.  —  Macbeth;  Act  2nd,  Scene  1st. 
1814*    Saul  and  the  Witch  of  Endor. 

*  Portrait  of  Mr.  J.  H.  Payne,  in  the  character  of  Norval. 
1815.     Portrait  of  a  Lady.    (Miss  Maxwell?) 

1816*    Death  of  Rutland;  3rd  Part  of  Henry  VI.,  Act  1st, 
Scene  3rd. 

1817.  Portraits  of  American  Friends  ;  painted  in  Paris.  (See 

Correspondence.) 

1818.  Girl  with  a  Dead  Bird. 

1819.  *   Portrait  of  a  Lady. 

*  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  going  to  Church  ;  painted  for 

James  Dunlop,  Esq.    Engraved,  and  in  the  possession  of 
John  Naylor,  Esq.,  Leighton  Hall,  near  Welshpool. 
The  same  subject  repeated  for  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne. 
1820*   Londoners  Gipsying. 

Portrait  of  Washington  Irving. 
1821.*   May  Day  in  the  Time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  En- 
graved by  Watt. 
Finished  Study  of  the  same  ;  painted  for  Alaric  Watts. 
Rebecca  in  Prison  —  Ivanhoe  ;  painted  for  the  Marquis 
of  Lansdowne. 

(About  this  time  Mr.  Leslie  painted  portraits  of  Mrs.  Fry  and 
Samuel  Gurney,  and  a  picture  of  a  child  in  a  Cardinal's 
dress.) 


358 


APPENDIX. 


1822  *    The  Rivals;  painted  for  Sir  Matthew  W.  Ridley,  Bart. 

Engraved.    Small  Study  of  same  in  the  possession  of  Ed- 
win Bullock,  Esq. 

1823.  (See  Correspondence.) 

1824.  *    Sancho  Panza  in  the  Apartment  of  the  Duchess  ; 

painted  for  the  Earl  of  Egremont.    Engraved.  Repeated 

for  Mr-  Vernon.    Repeated  smaller  and  purchased  by 

Samuel  Rogers,  Esq. 
A  repetition  painted  for  Leslie's  sister  in  America,  now  in  the 

possession  of  John  Farnworth,  Esq.  r 
Portrait  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  repeated  and  engraved. 

1825.  *    Slender,  Shallow,  and  Anne  Page;  painted  for  Sir 

Willoughby  Gordon.  Engraved. 

*  Sir  Henry  Wotton  Presenting  the  Countess  Sabri- 

na  with  a  Valuable  Jewel  on  the  eve  of  his 
Departure  from  Venice;  painted  and  engraved  for 
Major's  edition  of  "  Walton's  Lives." 

*  Six  Illustrations  to  the  Waverley  Novels.  En- 

graved. 

1826  *   Don  Quixote  in  the  Sierra  Morena,  Deceived  by 
the  Curate,  Barber,  and  Dorothea  ;  painted  for  the 
Earl  of  Essex.    Engraved.    Small  Study  for  the  picture 
in  the  Sheepshanks'  collection. 
Queen  Katherine  and  Her  Maid.    Diploma  picture. 

1827.  *    Lady  Jane   Grey  Prevailed   on   to  Accept  the 

Crown  ;  painted  for  the  Duke  of  Bedford.  Engraved. 

*  Study  for  the  Head  of  Don  Quixote. 

*  Study  for  the  Head  of  Sancho  Panza. 

1828.  "The  Bride." 

Portrait  of  Miss  Stephens;  painted  for  the  Earl  of 
Essex. 

Lady  in  a  Dutch  Dress,  with  a  Screen  in  Her  Hand. 

1829.  *    Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  and  the  Gipsies.  Engraved. 

1830.  Portraits  of  Mrs.  King  and  Lady  Burrell;  painted 

for  the  Earl  of  Egremont. 
Portrait  of  Doctor  Sims. 

Portraits  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dillwyn  and  Family; 

painted  for  John  Dillwyn,  Esq.,  near  Swansea. 
The  Infant  Princes  in  the  Tower  ;  painted  for  Mr. 

Rogers ;  now  in  the  possession  of  Joseph  Gillott,  Esq. 

1831.  *    The  Dinner  at  Mr.  Page's  House. 

"  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor."    (Repeated  in  1838.) 


APPENDIX. 


359 


1831.*  Uncle  Toby  and  the  Widow  Wadman;  painted  for 
John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.  Afterwards  repeated  for  Mr. 
Vernon ;  also  for  Mr.  Jacob  Bell.  All  three  pictures  are 
now  in  the  National  Collection  at  Kensington. 

1832*  Scene  from  the  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew;"  painted  for 
the  Earl  of  Egremont.  Engraved.  Repeated  for  John 
Sheepshanks,  Esq.  Now  in  the  National  Collection,  Ken- 
sington. 

A  small  repetition  painted  for  Joseph  Birt,  Esq. 
1833.*    Tristram  Shandy  Recovering  the  Lost  Manuscript; 
in  the  possession  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq. 
Repeated  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq. 

*  Mother  Dancing  to  her  Child. 

*  Martha  and  Mary  ;  painted  for  James  Dunlop,  Esq. 

1834. 

Portrait  of  Lady  Lilford  ;  painted  for  Lord  Holland 
about  this  time. 

1835*  Columbus  and  the  Egg;  painted  for  W.  Wells,  Esq.,  sold 
at  Lord  North  wick's  sale,  now  in  the  possession  of  Joseph 
Gillott,  Esq.,  Edgbaston. 

*  Gulliver's  Introduction  to  the  Queen  of  Brobding- 

NAG  ;  painted  for  the  Earl  of  Egremont. 
(The  Family  of   the   Marquis   of  Westminster; 
painted   for  the   Marquis   of   Westminster,   about  this 
time.) 

1836.  *    Autolycus;  painted  for  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  now  in  the 

National  Collection. 
A  Small  Picture  of  Amy  Robsart  ;  in  the  National 
Collection. 

Landscape,  Evening  ;  view  from  Mr.  Leslie's  window. 

1837.  *    Perdita. — Winter's  Tale.    Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks, 

Esq.    Now  in  the  National  Collection. 
Study  in  the  possession  of  J.  Heugh,  Esq. 
Repetition  of  The  Infant  Princes  in  the  Tower  ;  in  the 

Sheepshanks'  Collection. 

*  Charles  the   Second  and  Lady  Bellenden. —  Old 

Mortality.  Painted  for  the  Earl  of  Egremont.  A  small 
repetition  of  this  picture  painted  in  1856. 

1838.  *    The  Dinner  at  Mr.  Page's  House.  —  Merry  Wives  of 

Windsor.    Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.    Now  in 
the  National  Collection. 
The  Queen  receiving  the  Sacrament  after  the 
Coronation.  —  June  28th,  1838;  commenced  in  1838: 


360 


APPENDIX. 


1838  *       exhibited,  1843.    Engraved  by  S.  Cousens,  R.  A.  Painted 
for  her  Majesty. 
Portrait  of  Mrs.  Bates. 

1839.  *    "  Who  can  this  be  ?  "  and 

*  "  Who  can  this  be  from  ?  "    Painted  for  John  Sheep- 

shanks, Esq.    Now  in  the  National  Collection. 

*  Sancho  Panza.    Painted  for  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.    In  the 

National  Collection. 

*  Dulcinea.    Painted  for  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.    In  the  Na- 

tional Collection. 
Portrait  of  Dr.  Howley,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
Engraved. 

Small  whole-length  Portrait  of  the  Duchess  of 
Sutherland  in  the  Coronation  Robes. 

The  Marquis  of  Stafford.  Both  belonging  to  Sir  F.  G. 
Moon. 

1840.  *   Portrait  of  Baron  Cottenham,  Lord  High  Chancel- 

lor.   Painted  for  William  Russell,  Esq.  Engraved. 
Child  in  a  Garden  with  his  Little  Horse  and  Cart. 

In  the  National  Collection. 
Griselda.    In  the  National  Collection. 

1841.  *    Scene  from  "  Le  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme."   In  the 

National  Collection. 
A  repetition,  painted  for  Lord  Holland. 
A  repetition,  in  the  possession  of  Joseph  Gillott,  Esq. 
Lucretia.    In  the  National  Collection. 
Fairlop  Fair.    Painted  for  the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 
The  Queen  in  the  Coronation  Robes.    In  the  National 

Collection. 

*  The    Library  at    Holland    House,  with  Portraits. 

Painted  for  Lord  Holland.  Engraved. 
The  First  Lesson,  from  a  Design  by  Raffaelle.  Painted 

for  S.  Rogers,  Esq.,  in  the  possession  of  Thomas  Miller, 

Esq.,  Preston. 
There  are  three  repetitions  of  this  picture. 

1842.  *    Scene  from   "  Twelfth    Night  ; "  Act  I.  Scene  3. 

Painted  for  Thomas  Baring,  Esq.,  M.  P. 
A  repetition  of  this,  painted  in  1850,  is  in  the  possession  of 
Edwin  Bullock,  Esq. 

*  Queen  Katherine  and  her  Maid.   Now  in  the  National 

Collection.    Repetition  of  Diploma  picture. 
Commenced  a  picture  of  The  Christening  of  the  Prin- 
cess Royal.    Painted  for  Her  Majesty. 


APPENDIX. 


361 


1843.*   Portrait  of  Benjamin  Travers,  Esq.,  F.  R.  S. 

*  Scene  from  the  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  Chapter  XL 

Now  in  the  collection  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq. 

*  Portrait  of  Henry  Angelo,  Esq. 

*  "  La  Malade  Imaginaire  ; "  Act  III.  Scene  6.  Now  in  the 

National  Collection. 
Christ  and  his  Disciples  at  Capernaum;  Matthew, 
Chapter  XVIIL,  verse  2.   Painted  for  James  Lenox,  Esq., 
of  New  York. 

1844*  Scene  from  "  Comus  ; "  in  the  collection  of  John  Naylor, 
Esq.  Afterwards  painted  in  fresco  in  the  Pavilion,  in 
Buckingham  Palace  Gardens,  for  Her  Majesty. 

*  Sancho  Panza  in  the  Apartment  of  the  Duchess. 

Repetition  of  Petworth  picture.    Painted  for  Robert  Ver- 
non, Esq.    Now  in  the  National  Collection. 
Lady  Carlisle  carrying  the  Pardon  to  the  Duke 
of  Northumberland  in  the  Tower.    Painted  for 
Lord  Leconfield. 
Portrait  of  Miss  Burdett  Coutts. 
1845*    The  Heiress.    Painted  for  E.  Bicknell,  Esq. 

*  Scene  from  "  Les  Femmes  Savantes,"  Act  III.  Scene  2. 

Painted  for  John  Sheepshanks,  Esq.  Now  in  the  National 
Collection. 

Girl  in  a  Coblentz  Cap,  with  Lilies  of  the  Valley 
in  her  Hand.  Painted  for  Robert  Burton,  Esq.,  New 
York. 

1846  *  Reading  the  Will. —  Roderick  Random.  Painted  for  John 
Gibbons,  Esq. 

Small  Repetition,  painted  for  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  in  1856. 

*  Mother  and  Child.    Painted  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq. 

Engraved  by  J.  H.  Robinson,  Esq.,  R.A. 
Repetition,  painted  for  James  Lenox,  Esq.,  of  New  York. 

*  Portrait  of  Charles  Dickens,  Esq.,  in  the  character  of 

Bobadil.  Engraved. 
1847*    Martha  and  Mary.    Repetition  of  the  picture  of  1833. 
Painted  for  James  Lenox,  Esq.,  New  York. 
Repeated  for  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq.,  Handsworth,  near  Bir- 
mingham. 

*  The  Pharisee  and  the  Publican.    Painted  for  James 

Lenox,  Esq.,  New  York. 

*  Children  at  Play.    Painted  for  Sir  Robert  Wigram. 
The  Lady,  in  "  Comus;"  in  the  possession  of  John  Heugh, 

Esq. 


362 


APPENDIX. 


1847  *    The  Locket  (oval).    Painted  for  Richard  Newsham,  Esq. 
Repetition,  in  the  possession  of  Thomas  Miller,  Esq. 
Portrait  of  Capt.  E.  E.  Morgan. 

1848.  *    Lady  Jane  Grey  reading  Plato.    In  the  possession  of 

Thomas  Miller,  Esq. 

*  The  Shell.    Painted  for  John  Gibbons,  Esq. 

1849.  *    Scene  from  Henry  VIII.  —  Act  I.    Scene  4.    Painted  for 

Isambard  Kingdom  Brunei,  Esq.,  F.  R.  S. 

*  Scene  from  Don  Quixote  :  —  The  Duke's  Chaplain 

enraged,  leaving  the  Table.  Painted  for  Joshua 
Bates,  Esq. 

The  Necklace.   In  the  National  Collection. 
Sophia  Western.  Repeated. 

Lady  with  Scarlet  Geranium  in  her  Hand.  Painted 

for  C.  Constable,  Esq. 
Capt.  and  Mrs.  Morgan  and  Children.   Painted  for 

Capt.  E.  E.  Morgan,  New  York. 

1850.  *   Beatrice  in  the  Garden.    Painted  for  John  Gibbons, 

Esq.  Repeated. 

*  Sophia  Western  and  Tom  Jones  —  Book  XVIII.  Chap. 

XII.  In  the  possession  of  John  Harris,  Esq.,  Princes 
Gate. 

*  Scene  from  Henry  VIII. ;  Queen  Katherine. — Act  IV. 

Scene  2.    Painted  for  I.  K.  Brunei,  Esq. 
Repeated  smaller ;  in  the  possession  of  John  Naylor,  Esq. 
Robinson  Crusoe  reading  the  Bible  ;  in  the  possession 
of  James  Dugdale,  Esq.  Engraved. 
1851*    A  Study. 

*  Falstaff  personating  the  King.  —  1st  Part  of  Henry 

IV.  Act  II.  Scene  4.  Painted  for  John  Harris,  Esq., 
Princes  Gate. 

A  Group  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland's  Ten- 
ants. Painted  for  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  at  Stan- 
wick. 

1852.  *    Juliet.  Repeated  twice ;  one  painted  for  Richard  Newsham, 

Esq. 

Girl  holding  a  Dove.  In  the  collection  of  Thomas 
Miller,  Esq. 

Girl  reading.  In  the  possession  of  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq., 
Handsworth,  near  Birmingham.  Repeated. 

1853.  Slender,  with  the  assistance  of  Shallow,  courting 

Anne  Page.  Repeated  smaller;  in  the  possession  of 
Thomas  Miller,  Esq. 


APPENDIX. 


363 


1854.*    A  Present  ;  painted  for  W.  C.  Sole,  Esq.  Repetition. 

*  Portrait  of  Mrs.  W.  C.  Sole. 

Portrait  of  John  Everett  Millais,  Esq.,  A.  R.  A. 

*  Scene  from  the  Rape  of  the  Lock  ;  painted  for  John 

Gibbons,  Esq. 
1854.     View  on  the  Thames  at  Hampton. 
1855*    Sancho  Panza  and  Don  Pedro  Rezio  ;  Don  Quixote, 
Part  II.,  chap.  47 ;  painted  for  Lady  Chan  trey. 
Olivia  ;  Twelfth  Night.  Repeated. 

Portrait  of  the  late  Duke  of  Wellington,  looking 
at  a  Bust  of  Washington  ;  painted  for  Miss  Burdett 
Coutts. 

Repetition ;  painted  for  the  Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence,  of  Boston, 

u.  s. 

The  late  Duke  and  present  Duchess  of  Wellington, 
on  the  Staircase  of  Buckingham  Palace  ;  painted 
for  Miss  Burdett  Coutts. 

1856.  *    Hermione;  Winter's  Tale;  painted  for  I.  K.  Brunei.  Re- 

peated. 

A  Repetition,  with  alterations,  of  the  Scene  from  the  Rape  of 

the  Lock ;  painted  for  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq. 
The  Opera  Box;  painted  for  Edwin  Bullock,  Esq. 

1857.  *    Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  in  Church;  Spectator, No.  112; 

painted  for  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  Preston. 

1858.  *    Christ  and  his  Disciples  at  Capernaum;  Matt,  xviii.  2. 

Larger  than  the  first  picture  of  the  same  subject,  and  with 
alterations  ;  painted  for  Henry  Vaughan,  Esq. 
Study  for  Queen  Caroline  ;  painted  for  Joseph  Birt, 
Esq. ;  in  the  possession  of  John  Naylor,  Esq. 

1859.  *   Jeanie  Deans'  Interview  with  Queen  Caroline; 

painted  for  Jacob  Birt,  Esq.;  in  the  possession  of  John 
Naylor,  Esq. 

*  Hotspur  and  Lady  Percy;  painted  for  Joseph  Miller, 

Esq.,  Virginia,  U.  S. 
(Of  uncertain  date.) 

Little  Girl,  with  her  Doll,  and  a  Tazza  of  Flow- 
ers ;  in  the  collection  of  Joseph  Gillott,  Esq. 

Greek  Maiden  Holding  a  Lyre  (Moonlight).  Engraved 
by  Finden.    In  the  collection  of  E.  Bicknell,  Esq. 


the  end. 


GETTY  RESEARCH  INSTITUTE 


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